


Into That Bad Night

by 71tenseventeen



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dark Geno, Implied Murder, Implied Violence, M/M, Sex, mob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/71tenseventeen/pseuds/71tenseventeen
Summary: Evgeni is a very dangerous man and Sidney doesn't care.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a quick little tumblr drabble and now it's a fic. 
> 
> Dark Geno will stay dark so please read warnings and tags. 
> 
> Banner by the amazing Senia! (Cakemakethme on tumblr)
> 
> Thanks to Queen-Alia and ljummen for helping me work through this chapter after chapter! 
> 
> Come see me on tumblr.

Evgeni slips out of his holster and extracts his piece, laying it carefully on the side table and licks his bottom lip as he looks back up. He’s doesn’t bother undressing, just eases himself onto the mattress not taking his eyes off of Sidney’s as he leans against the headboard and crosses his legs at the ankle. “Undress for me.” 

Sidney’s eyes momentarily dart to the gun and back to Evgeni’s. It’s brief but Evgeni doesn’t miss anything and he lifts the corner of his lip as he fixes his gaze on Sidney. “Is not for use on you but I keep out always. We have a problem?” he says, tone leaving no room for negotiation. 

Sidney shakes his head. “No. No problem.” 

“If is problem you leave now, we done here.”

“I said it’s not a problem.” 

Evgeni settles back against the pillows again and gestures toward Sidney who doesn’t miss a beat now, pulling his clothes off and standing bare before Evgeni. 

Evgeni sits up a little straighter, eyelids heavy and tugs off his tie. “Then come here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evgeni likes nice things, especially Sidney, and he takes very good care of the people he likes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark Geno. Seriously, not kidding.

**< _Friday, 11pm_ >**

A shiver runs down Sidney’s spine when he reads it. Evgeni is in Pittsburgh. 

He’s been with Evgeni enough now that he knows what it means and where to go. Evgeni has made it clear that he is safe to say no. He’s not worried about that. Not that he wants to. Despite his strong suspicions about who he is, what he does, Sidney doesn’t generally like anything about this work but he looks forward to these calls. A night with Evgeni means a night of safety in a very nice hotel under hands that don’t seek to hurt him, mind-blowing pleasure and at least two months rent.

This is the first time he’s ever hesitated.

He doesn’t want to. He never wants to say no but glancing up at his reflection, at the bruises that are beginning to heal, he wonders if Evgeni will be disappointed or angry with him. He has never so much as raised his voice with Sidney but he makes his appreciation of Sidney’s body and face very clear when they’re together. Will Evgeni even want him if he looks like this? 

Maybe, maybe if he’s good enough he can work around it, get himself into a position where Evgeni doesn’t even have to look at his face. It’s worth it to try. 

He texts back the simple affirmation he’s learned to use and hopes Evgeni won’t turn him away. 

Evgeni isn’t there yet, when he arrives. This works to his advantage—he’s pulled out all the stops in hopes to distract from the mess on his face. 

He strips down until he’s only in silky panties and stockings—Evgeni loves him in them. Instead of propping himself on the pillows to watch the door, he turns the lights as low as they’ll go without actually being off and spreads out on his stomach so that the first thing Evgeni will see is—well. Hopefully it will be enough. 

It must take longer than usual, though, because suddenly he’s blinking awake to a hand gently pushing his hair back. Still half asleep, he rolls to look up and smiles at Evgeni. “Hey,” he says softly reaching up to touch Evgeni’s arm. 

“Hi Sid,” is the quiet response as Evgeni slowly, carefully runs his fingers down the tender skin between Sidney’s temple and jaw. 

Sidney winces as he realizes what Evgeni is seeing and curses himself internally. This is exactly what he didn’t want. 

“What happen, Sidney?” 

He reaches up, touches Evgeni’s hand which hasn’t moved away from his jaw. “It’s nothing.” He smiles, “It barely even hurts. I promise it won’t affect anything.” 

Evgeni trails his fingers slowly to the unbruised side of Sidney’s face, grips gentle but firm so that Sidney can’t look away. “Not ask that,” he says, voice leaving no room for misunderstanding. “Ask what happen.” 

Evgeni’s expression hasn’t changed but Sidney feels as though he’s just been doused in ice water. He swallows thickly. “A c-client got angry when I wouldn’t—I left. This is all that happened.” 

“Mmm,” Evgeni loosens his grip again and goes back to trailing his fingers across Sidney’s tender skin, so gentle it feels like air. “You not see that client again.” 

It’s not a question but Sidney shakes his head anyhow. “No. No of course not.” 

“Good.” Evgeni leans in, ghosts a kiss across Sid’s lips. “Okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sidney nods, pushes up a bit. “You still...I mean—You still want…?” 

Evgeni kisses him again and rubs his thumb across Sid’s bottom lip. “Always want.” 

**

It’s exactly 4:00 AM when Evgeni arrives at the warehouse, straightening his suit as he steps out of the car to greet his men. 

He raises his eyebrows at Gonchar who only nods once in return. This seems to satisfy Evgeni as he strides towards the door. He pauses when one of his men attempts to go in with him. “He is unarmed?” 

“Yes sir,” the curly headed blonde who has far exceeded Evgeni’s expectations says. 

“Then there is no need for backup. Stand guard. I won’t be long.” 

Inside the warehouse there’s a makeshift office where a man is waiting. He’s utterly unremarkable, Evgeni thinks; average height, average looks, average over-confidence. Evgeni smiles warmly, shaking his hand before offering a seat which the man takes as Evgeni settles on the edge of the desk. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Malkin?” 

“Ah. So you know know who I am. Very good, that will make things much easier. It is my understanding that you own and operate a small loan company here in Pittsburgh.” 

“Yes. For nearly nine years now.” 

Evgeni nods. “Eight years, ten months and thirteen days, correct?” 

The man looks a little taken aback but nods. “Yes, sir.” 

“And tell me, has it been profitable?” 

“Very. Are you… Do you want to buy it?” 

Evgeni laughs. “No, I have no interest in your business. I merely want to know a little about your background. You are also married, yes?” 

The man narrows his eyes but nods. “What is this all about?” 

“I’m glad you asked. You see, I’m wonder if your wife knows about the time that you spend with hookers.” 

The man shifts nervously and laughs. “It’s not an issue.” 

“I see. Well I do wonder, what would become of that loan business if something were to happen to you? Is your wife the sole recipient? Will she be taken care of in the event of your death?” 

The man blanches and starts to stand only to be stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. “Answer me.” 

The man swallows hard, hesitates but eventually answers, voice shaky. “Everything is left to her in my will.” 

“Good, I like to hear that.” Evgeni stares down at him, lips twisting into a smile. He pulls his gun from it’s holster and makes a show of checking the chamber. “Tell me, did you enjoy your time with the male hooker you hired?” 

The man’s mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

“Confused? You have many male hookers? Well I refresh your memory. This one most beautiful man you ever see. Perfect body, perfect eyes, perfect lips—perfect in every way, really. You paid for one thing but then tried to force more on him when you had him alone. Does that help you remember?” 

The man jumps up, makes a worthless attempt at running even as Evgeni backhands him, knocking him to the ground. Evgeni towers over him, bending just enough to grab the man by the hair and yank backward. “I think yes, you remember.” 

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

Evgeni cocks the pistol. “If I don’t hurt you, how you ever pay for hurting him?” 

The man squeezes his eyes shut as the butt of the pistol comes down on his temple. 

**

Evgeni slips back between the sheets at just after seven in the morning, pulling Sidney close when he stretches. He lays his lips on the back of Sidney’s neck, just grazing there for a moment before hitching his hips forward gently. “I think maybe you not have other client anymore. Mine exclusive. I increase pay.” 

Sidney twists until he can meet Evgeni’s eyes and despite everything he knows, he trusts him. “Okay.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evgeni gets what he wants.

Evgeni scowls and takes a sip from his drink, letting his eyes scan the club. This isn’t the worst club he’s been to but it’s certainly not where he wants to be spending his time right now. It’s the type of place that the owners like to call exclusive even though it’s anything but. The place is crawling with dealers, probably employed by the club itself, pushing ecstasy and cocaine and semi-private rooms filled with the people stupid enough to buy it. The music is insufferable, the same set of 20 cheap remixes played over and over while anyone with the $25 cover fee is granted access to the crowded dance floor and overpriced, watered down drinks. 

The bottom feeders always want to meet him in places like this, as if this would impress him. Sometimes it’s the club owners themselves, none too subtly offering up drugs, booze, women—as though any of that would sway him to get involved in a shithole like this. As if he would ever. They garner what they think is a fortune getting kids high and pimping young men and women, dealing in stolen weapons and then party half of it away. Evgeni can’t stand them and only entertains these meetings to gather information. There’s no loyalty among any of them and that means there is a constant stream of new players who want his attention and his favor. It’s almost too easy how they offer up anything he needs to know about them during these “meetings” before he turns them down, explains swiftly how things are going to be. 

“Evgeni? May I call you that?” 

He meets the beady eyes with his own hooded ones. “May call me Mr. Malkin.” 

“My apologies, Mr. Malkin,” the man—an older man named Evans—says, looking flustered for a moment before pasting on a fake smile and motioning towards a woman waiting nearby. ”I’d like you to meet my friend, Holly. I thought you might like to get to know her.” 

“Not interested.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Why I want to get to know her? What special about her? She have information I need?” 

“Um, no. No sir,” he mutters and waves the woman away. 

Evgeni casts his eyes around the club again. The room they’re in is private with floor to ceiling glass walls that overlook the entirety of the club. He’s tired of letting the man fumble on and decides he’s ready to say his piece and leave except—his eyes sweep across the bar area and he has to do a double take. Evans is still talking but Evgeni ignores him, sitting up straighter to gaze down on a shirtless Sidney carrying a tray of drinks. 

“Mr. Malkin?” 

“Shut up,” Evgeni says, no note of apology in his voice. He points down to the floor at Sidney. “Want him up here, would like to speak with him.” 

“Oh. Him? He’s just a waiter. Surely you’d rather I get you—” The man stops abruptly as Evgeni finally meets his eyes. 

“I look like someone who not mean what they say, Mr. Evans?” 

“No, sir. Of course not. It was just that—”

“Get him. Now.” Evgeni doesn’t have to raise his voice; his tone is clear and the the man scrambles up and out of the room. 

Evgeni stands and reaches for the curtain pull on the nearest window, pulling it shut as he indicates to his men that they should do the same. It doesn’t do anything to block out the sound, he can’t do that until the door is closed, but it blocks out the lights and any view anyone in the club might have. His men already swept the room for cameras and recording devices before Evgeni even entered so that is not a concern. 

It takes a few minutes but eventually the man is back with Sidney, though he looks more than a little angry at the turn of events. “Mr. Malkin, this is—”

“Sidney,” Evgeni cuts him off, looking only at Sid. 

“Evgeni. Hi,” Sidney replies, sounding nervous and breathy. 

“Everyone else out,” Evgeni says, eyes never leaving Sidney. 

“Mr. Malkin, sir, if I could just say. If he has done something or—” He stops again as Evgeni turns cold eyes on him. 

“I say get out. Losing patience with you.” His glare is stone cold and Evans takes a deep breath before backing out of the room. 

Evgeni turns his attention back on Sidney as he speaks to the few of his men remaining in the room. “No one enters until I’m say.” 

Short nods are the only indication that they’ve heard him and then they’re gone, shutting the door securely behind them. Evgeni pulls the last curtain across the door before settling on the leather sofa. He pats the spot next to him. “Have seat, Sidney.” 

As Sidney perches on the seat next to him, he pours champagne into a tulip glass before offering it out. “Apologies, it not great but is best this place have to offer.” 

Sidney takes the glass with a shaky hand. “Th-thank you.” 

“Sorry if I’m make you nervous, Sidney. That not my intention. Just see you downstairs and want to talk to you.” 

“Oh. Well, hi,” Sidney says with a small smile. 

Evgeni returns the smile, leaning back. “See you here, though, make me think. Sidney, I’m not pay you enough?” 

Sidney clearly wasn’t expecting that. “What? What do you mean? You always pay more than enough.” 

“No. Not pay enough. I’m ask you to have only me as client and you stick to that?”

“Of course, yes.” Sidney sounds sincere, if a little bit nervous again. 

“And then I’m go overseas for three months and you working here. You always work here before?” 

“No,” Sidney shakes his head. “I—was I not supposed to?” He swallows thickly. 

“No, of course you have job if you need,” Evgeni says, watching Sidney’s shoulders relax. “I’m not leave you with enough income to take care of self. Was very short sighted and I owe you apology.”

Sidney shakes his head. “No, no you don’t have to—it’s not your job to take care of my finances.” 

“Maybe not but is my job to make sure you have enough income when I’m ask you to give up part of it.” 

“It’s really okay.” Sidney fidgets and takes a drink just to have something to do.

“You like work here? Good place?” 

“It’s okay, I guess? I mean they were hiring and the tips can be good on weekends.” 

“Not what I ask.” 

“I—no, it’s not my favorite but that doesn’t matter.” 

Sidney frowns and Evgeni sits up, moves closer. “What if I’m offer you different job. Legit job at any of my company here. You want to be waiter, I’m set you up at restaurant. You want office job, I’m get for you. Make sure you have good wage, benefits.” 

 

“Really?” Sidney smiles. “You would do that?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“And I wouldn’t have to do anything…” Sidney trails off, cheeks flushing deep pink as he looks away. 

Evgeni reaches out, pulls Sidney’s face gently back to look at him. “Not have to do anything.” he says with a smile. “Just do work at job.” 

“That’s... Okay, wow. I don’t know what to say. I mean, I would love that but, I would have to wait a little while. I, um, I can’t break my contract here for three more months.” 

Evgeni frowns. “What kind contract?” 

Sidney looks down. “I, um, I had to ask for an advance on a paycheck. They gave it to me but i had to agree to work for a certain amount of time until my debt is paid back. With interest.” 

“I’m take care of. You want to work for me, just say word.” 

“I couldn’t ask you do that.” 

“You not ask me, I’m take care of debt either way.”

“Would I—would that mean…?” 

Evgeni scoots closer, runs his fingers along Sidney’s jaw line. “Would mean debt gone, not transfer. You owe no one.” 

Sidney lets out a breath as he blinks up at Evgeni. “Why?”

Evgeni smiles. “Because I like the way you look at me.” 

“Oh,” Sidney breathes, leaning into the touch. “So the other stuff, I mean—” he loosely gestures between them before settling his hand on Evgeni’s thigh. 

“All extra, only when you available.” He leans closer, runs his thumb across Sidney’s bottom lip. “Only question I have is, you coming with me when I go?” 

“Tonight?” 

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” Sidney says, licking his lower lip. 

He has just enough time to see the pleased smile before Evgeni’s mouth is on his. “Available all night,” he asks quietly, running a huge hand slowly up Sidney’s thigh. 

“Yes.” 

“Mmm, good.” He kisses Sidney again. “Tomorrow, all night?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” Evgeni works his hand carefully around Sidney’s thigh, moving up to cup him, grinning when Sidney gasps. 

“Think maybe I take you to my apartment for weekend,” he says with a gentle squeeze before tugging carefully at Sidney’s fly, popping the button. 

“Okay,” Sidney breathes out, letting Evgeni pull him close, reaching for him too. 

Evgeni pushes his hand away with cocky smile. “You want?” 

“Please.” 

“Maybe. Not yet.” He laughs at Sidney’s soft whine, tugging his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his dick. “Should relax, Sidney. Missed making you come,” he whispers before kissing him long and deep, muffling soft moans as he wraps his fingers around Sidney’s shaft. 

\--

Sidney’s cheeks are flushed, eyes still a little unfocused as he takes the dress shirt that Evgeni offers him. “You don’t, um, don’t you need this?” 

Evgeni winks at Sidney before pulling his fitted white tee back on. “Think I’m be fine. You need shirt.” 

“Thanks,” Sid smiles shyly, pulling it on. He gropes around for his pants and underwear while Evgeni pushes a button on his phone speaking quickly in Russian before ending the call. 

He pulls on his dress jacket and extends his hand to Sidney. “Come, we go. Not finished with you.” 

Sidney bites his lower lip, smiling until he realize how he must look. “What about, um…” He gestures towards the door. 

Evgeni’s eyes darken. “I’m take care.” 

Sidney breathes out a nervous laugh. “Take care, um, how? No wait, don’t answer that.” He shakes his head and Evgeni has to laugh. 

“Sidney,” he says gently, tugging Sidney to face him. “Better you not ask, I’m not talk about.” 

“I… Okay. Yeah. I…” Sidney trails off and Evgeni can’t help but reach up and slide knuckles gently along his jaw with a smile. 

“Still okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” 

As expected, Evans is not happy to find that Sidney is leaving with Evgeni. “With all due respect, Mr. Malkin, Sidney owes me a debt and—”

“He owe you nothing, consider debt eliminated.” 

“But—”

Evgeni leaves Sidney behind Oleksiak and Letang to step up to Evans. “You remember Artur Voynov,” he asks calmly, smiling darkly when Evans’ face goes pale. “Good. You done with Sidney, forgive debt and if you lucky, you not end up like Mr. Voynov.” 

He steps away again, letting Letang and Oleksiak fall in front and behind him as he slips an arm around Sidney’s waist. 

Sidney is nervous, shoulders tense and Evgeni leans in, whispers softly, “I’m take care,” and it helps. Sidney leans into his side and lets Evgeni guide him through the club. 

They’re pushing through the crowd near the bar when Guentzel reappears, toting a worn backpack that he hands to Sidney. “The things from your locker.” 

Sidney looks up, surprised. “Thanks,” he says softly, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. 

They take a few more steps when Evgeni quickly turns, grabbing at something behind Sidney. By the time he gets turned around, he sees Evgeni calmly squeezing a man’s wrist. “Try touch him again, I break it.” 

The man swallows and scrambles away the second Evgeni lets him go, rubbing his wrist as he retreats. 

Evgeni puts his hand gently on Sidney’s back and guides him out of the club. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sid stretches slowly, rolling until he bumps up against the warm weight of Evgeni’s body. He smiles without opening his eyes as he settles in, not feeling the slightest urge to get up out of this bed. Where else would he go but home? Home doesn’t have a bed like this or sheets like these. Home doesn’t have Evgeni’s big, soft hand snaking across his waist or his teeth gently scraping at Sid’s shoulder. Besides, if he goes home, he’s off the clock and given the choice between being paid to receive mind blowing pleasure or going home to a cold, empty apartment that offers little protection from his angry former employer, well it’s not really hard to decide. 

He lets himself be rolled gently onto his stomach, arches his ass up into Evgeni’s hand with a soft, “Yesss, Evgeni. Please.” 

And then Evgeni is straddling him, laid out along his back, breath hot in his ear. “Want you to call me Zhenya,” he says softly as he lifts himself just enough to trail fingers between Sid’s ass cheeks. 

Sid gasps softly at the sensation and then again when Evgeni slips a finger inside finding him still wet and still ready. “Z—Zhenya?” he fumbles out. “What does it mean?” 

Evgeni—Zhenya pulls his hand back before sliding back in with two fingers this time. “Is special name. For only people very important to me, Sid. Want to hear you say it.” He rocks his fingers in deep, pulling a groan from Sid. 

“Yeah. Zhenya. Like that?” 

Zhenya growls a little and Sid knows he got it right. “Say again,” he rasps as he pulls out his fingers and lines himself up instead. 

Sid arches his back more, lifting his ass as Zhenya pushes in slowly, giving Sid time to pant his way through adjusting before he begs, “Zhenya, yes. More. Please.”

Zhenya gives him more. 

Later, he grins down at Sid who is lying boneless in the bed, barely able to keep his eyes open. Zhenya laughs and nuzzles at Sid’s lips with his own, peppering him with soft kisses. “Could get used to having you in my bed.” 

“Mmmm,” is all Sid can manage through his bliss. 

“Have to go to work for couple of hour. Maybe you stay. Spend weekend.” 

Sid forces his eyes open and looks carefully at Zhenya. “You want me to stay here while you go to work.” 

“Only if you want. I’m pay you for all your time. If you have other thing to do, I understand.” 

Sid’s quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “No. I don’t have anything else to do. You really want me to stay here? 

“Want.” Zhenya nips at his bottom lip. ”Think about while I’m shower. Would bring you with me but might never finish.”

Sid thinks about staying while he listens to the sounds of Zhenya showering. By every measure, this should concern him. He knows what Evgeni Malkin is, what he does. It’s one thing to meet him in hotels and be paid well for his services. It’s another thing entirely to be coming to his apartment, to be asked to call him something less formal and more... _familiar_. 

To be allowed to stay in his apartment even while he’s gone. 

Sid knows it’s a different level and he knows he should be wary. But as he lays comfortably on sheets that probably cost more than his rent, listening to the sounds of Evg— _Zhenya_ finishing up in the master bathroom, he can’t seem to conjure up anything about this that worries him, not even any of the intimidation he used to feel when he first starting seeing Zhenya. 

Maybe he shouldn’t but he’s going to stay. He should probably get out now. Zhenya is not someone who fucks around, not someone who should feel safe. But he does. He’s never felt safer than when he’s with Zhenya. And he’s never had a man touch him the way Zhenya does, like he _matters_. So maybe he _should_ be intimidated, scared but all he feels is hot warmth as Zhenya shuffles out with a grin, towel wrapped low on his waist and— Sid sits up, trying hard not to smile. 

“What?” Zhenya says it over his shoulder, as he steps into the massive walk-in closet. 

Sid opens his mouth but he’s not sure what to say. Zhenya glances and raises an eyebrow at him. “ _What_ ,” he prompts again. “What funny?” 

“Um, no. It’s not funny, it’s just. I, um…” he doesn’t know how to say it so he decides to be honest. “I guess I just, see you as this, um, I dunno, powerful guy and you’re, um, you’re wearing fuzzy slippers and…” he trails off, waiting for Zhenya to frown at him. 

But Zhenya, to his surprise, flushes a bit as he turns back to a clothes rack. “Powerful guy toes get cold, too, Sid.” 

Sid slips a hand up over his mouth to try to hide his smile. He _cannot_ laugh at Zhenya. That can’t be a good idea. 

But Zhenya turns and, far from frowning, he looks a little defiant and a lot amused. “Hurt my feelings, Sid,” he says, faking a pout and Sid can’t hold back the giggles any longer. Zhenya squares up his shoulders. “So mean! Laugh at me?” He turns and marches towards the bed and Sid has just enough time to duck under the covers before Zhenya is burrowing under, deft fingers finding his ribcage and tickling as he pins Sid to the bed. 

Later, when he’s sufficiently turned Sid into a sleepy, satisfied mess again, he kisses Sid with a grin. “So you stay?” 

Sid nods, still a little breathless and Zhenya laughs, kissing him again. “Okay, you stay. Help self to anything want to do, anything in kitchen. Can even wear slippers if toes get cold.” 

Sid’s still smiling as Zhenya pulls himself from the bed again. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Malkin Foundation, this is Sidney.” 

“Hello Sidney.” Zhenya’s drawl is unmistakable. Sid’s heart skips with the thrill of anticipation. 

He grins and glances around to make sure no one is looking before he speaks again, a little quieter. “Hi Zhenya. What can I do for you?” 

“Just landed in Pittsburgh. Wondering if you might know someone who interested in spending weekend with me,” he drawls, sounding cocky. 

“Hmm, well,” Sid feigns, hoping Zhenya doesn’t think it’s too cheesy, “looking at the schedule it looks like everyone is busy but me.” 

“My lucky day,” he replies, voice low and heated. “Exactly who I want.” 

\--

It’s Saturday night and Sid is still panting when Zhenya’s phone rings. He flashes a cocky grin at Sid as he lazily reaches over to grab the phone. It only takes one glance at the screen for his eyes go go dark and the smile to drop off of his face. He answers, slipping immediately into Russian. 

Sid doesn’t understand any Russian yet, though Zhenya speaks it frequently on phone calls when he’s around. He settles back and tries to let the lilt of Zhenya’s words wash over him, except— There’s a dark, unsettling undertone in Zhenya’s voice and Sid feels uneasy, like an intruder. 

The call doesn’t last long, Zhenya turning to him with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Have to go do some work. Don’t wait up.” He kisses Sid, deepening it for just a moment before he pulls away. 

Sid sits up, watching nervously as Zhenya pulls on a fresh, immaculate suit. He wants to ask if everything is okay but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. Zhenya finally glances over as he’s straightening his sleek, black tie. His expression softens, for just the briefest moment. “Everything okay, Sid. Don’t want you to worry. Just work stuff,” he says with a confidence that settles some of Sid’s anxiety. He comes to the bed, gripping Sid’s chin deftly with one hand as he kisses him again. “I’m back as soon as I can. You still stay?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Zhenya kisses him one final time. “Good,” he breathes against Sid’s lips and then he’s gone. 

\--

Sid wakes groggy and confused, wondering what woke him up. There are muffled, vague sounds he can’t identify that finally force his eyes open. It takes a few heavy blinks before he realizes that the bathroom door is pushed closed but not latched and there is light spilling out around the opening. His heart skips a beat—Zhenya is home. 

He hears the sink turn on as he slips out of bed, padding to the door in his underwear. He pushes at it gently, squinting as the bright light hits his eyes. It takes a moment for his vision to adjust and he looks down, spotting Zhenya’s tie, discarded on the floor. The silky black fabric seems impossibly darker, glistening softly in the light. 

Sid steps further into the bathroom, freezing in his tracks as he rounds the corner to find Zhenya looking stony faced, eyes trained on Sid in the mirror. His suit jacket is laying on the counter and he’s halfway through unbuttoning the crisp white shirt he’d pulled on earlier. Except it’s no longer all white. 

Zhenya’s shirt and neck have been sprayed with what Sid knows must be blood and he swallows hard as they meet eyes in the mirror. Zhenya, red droplets sprayed on the side of his neck, face and even in his hair, doesn’t flinch or falter as he watches Sid carefully. 

Sid knows he should turn around and leave this room, get back into bed and forget this ever happened but he can’t move. He stands frozen to the spot, eyes locked with Zhenya’s, as what seems like minutes pass but is probably only a few seconds. 

Zhenya doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch as he watches Sid without a hint of guilt or regret in his expression. And Sid knows he can’t be surprised. He’s known this all along, hasn’t he? And now that he’s confronted with the reality of it, he suddenly understands he has a decision to make. He should leave but everything in him is screaming to stay, to go back to bed with the man who probably took a life tonight. Maybe more than one. And it will happen again.

He wants Zhenya far more than he wants to leave. 

“Are you okay?” He forces it out, voice little more than a whisper. 

“Fine.” Zhenya’s voice is firm and clear. 

Sid nods, swallowing hard and then he puts one foot in front of the other. 

When he reaches the sink his hands are shaky and he can’t quite meet Zhenya’s eyes as he reaches up to finish unbuttoning the shirt. Zhenya lets him, expression finally softening just the smallest amount. “You do because you want or because I pay you?” 

“I want to.” And he means it. 

The rest of his clothes come off quickly, Sid only stopping to turn on the shower that he’s grown so familiar with. 

He isn’t sure what he should do next but Zhenya reads his uncertainty, just like he always manages to read Sid so well, and tugs at his underwear, until Sid is kicking them off. He finally meets Zhenya’s gaze again as he’s led into the shower where the blood starts to wash away immediately. Maybe it’s a mistake—in fact he knows it is—letting himself feel so deeply for a man who pays him for sex. He’s in way too deep but he can’t bring himself to regret it. 

They’re silent as Sid reaches up to help shampoo Zhenya’s hair and then moves on to soaping up his face and neck and torso, working his way over every inch of his body until there’s no hint of blood left anywhere. Then Zhenya does the same for Sid, slow and quiet, paying special attention to Sid’s hands where they touched the bloody clothes. 

When they’re both clean, Zhenya slowly and carefully backs Sid up against the shower wall, presses their bodies tight as he slides a hand over Sid’s cheek. “Sid,” he breathes out and it’s all Sid needs to surge forward, kissing him desperately. 

His hands are everywhere, strong and sure. Sid loses track of time, his thoughts only a blur of emotion and desperation and _pleasure_. His legs are shaky when Zhenya finally turns off the water, leads him from the shower and wraps a warm towel around his shoulders. He ignores the discarded clothes and lets him guide them to bed. 

It’s still early when he wakes to Zhenya propped up on an elbow, looking down at him carefully. 

In an instant the night before floods back to him but far from wanting to pull away, he rolls closer, rests his head against Zhenya’s chest. A hand comes up and starts working it’s way slowly through his curls and then there’s a soft kiss and a nudge so Sid rolls back with a sigh, finally facing Zhenya’s intense gaze. 

“You sure?” is all Zhenya says at first. 

“Yes,” Sid breathes, because he is sure. 

“Job won’t change, Sid. You need to understand that.” 

“I know.”

“You need to be sure this what you want to do.” 

“I’m sure, I am. I just… Zhenya, I….” Sid wonders why it’s easier to say he’s okay with Zhenya being a criminal than to say _this_. 

Zhenya tips his face up and holds it in place like he has so many times before. Sid loves it. “Want honesty, Sid.” 

Sid swallows hard. “I don’t want to do this for money anymore.” 

Zhenya’s eyebrows twitch but that’s the only reaction he gives. “Want that very much, Sid,” he says, and Sid can hardly breathe because Zhenya _wants_ him. “Want you, just need to know you understand what you get into. I’m always protect you, never hurt you, do all I can to keep work separate but job will never change.” 

“I understand.” Sid gazes up at him, trying to convey just how much he means it. 

“You always free to leave, end things if it get to be too much but can never get involve with others in the business.” 

“I would never,” Sid says, scowling, and he’s never meant anything more.

Zhenya pauses, eyes searching Sid’s again before he finally leans down to capture his lips. “My Sid,” Zhenya breathes and then sets about showing Sid what it means to be his. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sid props himself against the headboard, watching as Zhenya packs a bag. He’s not sure of the last time he slept in his own apartment—probably at least two weeks ago, before their business relationship became something very different. It’s the longest he’s ever spent with Zhenya and, as far as he can remember, it’s the longest Zhenya has stayed in Pittsburgh for a stretch. 

Sid knew it was probably coming but he’s still not happy about it, not that he’ll say that to Zhenya. Instead he watches and tries not to look like he hates it. 

“Gonna tell me what you thinking about or make me guess?” 

He sighs. He should have known Zhenya would pick up on it anyhow. “It’s nothing, I promise.” 

Zhenya gives Sid a sharp look, furrowing his brow. “If was nothing, you not sit there looking like that.”

“I—I’m sorry. I just meant that it’s nothing important that you need to worry about.” He forces a smile. “I promise, I’m okay.” 

Zhenya sighs heavily before sitting on the edge of the bed facing. “Not really interested in playing games, Sid. Obvious something bothering you, would rather not go on trip with problem not dealt with.” 

Sid wants to argue that it’s not a problem because it’s _not_. He won’t let it be but he knows saying that will just frustrate them both. “I didn’t want to say anything because it’s stupid. I’m just—I’m going to miss you.” He feels the color rise on his cheeks and has to look away. 

“That what this is about? Why you not want me to know this?” Sid doesn’t need to be looking to know he’s smiling. 

He shrugs. “Because that’s not—I mean I know how things are.”

Zhenya slides closer, cupping Sid’s cheek. “How things are is, I’m miss you too. Never easy leaving you behind but is worse this time. Don’t like, but nice to know you gonna miss me.” 

“I always miss you.” 

Zhenya smiles a little wider. “Always miss you too,” he says, leaning down for a quick kiss. “That only thing bother you?” 

Sid sighs. How does Zhenya read him so well? “I just… Look I know that things are what they are but—I guess I was just wondering if there’s, um, someone, you know, like me, everywhere you go?” 

Understanding dawns in Zhenya’s eyes and his expression softens. “Ah, you asking if you only one.” 

Sid nods, looking everywhere but Zhenya’s eyes. 

“Sid, look at me,” He waits for Sid to do it before he continues. “Over years meet people, spend time in different cities, of course this means I try to look for companionship. But that not anything like what this is. Those things were casual. Found it very hard to be interested in others after I meet you so answer is no. Is no one like you in other places. You only one for me and I expect I’m be only one for you.” He shakes his head as he runs a gentle finger along Sid’s jaw. “You only one for few months now.” 

Sid looks up, eyes wide with surprise. “Really? But you were gone for so long. And we weren’t… I mean…” 

Zhenya shrugs again. “Why waste my time when I know who I want and know I can have as soon as I’m back in Pittsburgh?” His gaze is dark and heavy and Sid has to kiss him hard. 

He’s breathing faster by the time they part. “Can, um, can I ask where you’re going?” 

“Miami.” 

“Oh,” Sid tries to keep his expression neutral. “I didn’t realize you were going home.” 

Zhenya cocks his head. “Sid…” he prompts, brows furrowed. 

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just usually when you go home, it’s for a long time.”

It’s Zhenya’s turn to look surprised but only for a moment before it changes to a sheepish smile. “I think maybe I’m not explain some things yet. Home not Miami. Used to be but not anymore. Home Pittsburgh now, until I’m convince you to move,” he says with a wide grin. 

Sid wants to return it but all he can manage is a shocked look as he tries to process what he just heard. “You—you moved here for _me_?” 

“Of course. Not like it’s some strange new place, Sid. I’m here a lot already. Make sense be here with you so I move a little bit of operations. Really not big deal.” 

Sid stares at him, frozen for another few seconds before he finally manages to whisper, “It is to me.” 

He lets Zhenya wrap him up in a hug and kiss him senseless for another moment or two before they pull apart again, Zhenya still smiling wide. “Should come with me. I show you good time on beach.” 

“You know I have to work,” is the reply but he’s laughing. 

Zhenya sighs dramatically. “Fine, okay.” He shifts a little closer. “Know what I think,” he asks, leaning his face close to Sid’s, “Think when I’m come back in few days, we go shopping. Get you nicest suit so I’m take you out, show you off little bit. Make sure everyone know for sure, you mine. You think is good idea?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes, focused on getting his lips on Zhenya’s again. 

“Want everyone to know you mine, I’m yours.” He holds Sid off a little longer. “Make sure they understand, they fuck with you, they going to have a problem.” 

Sid knows Zhenya well enough to know he means more than just showing him off as a date to some random people. Zhenya is talking about staking a claim, letting everyone know what’s off limits to them, should they want to stay in his good favor. It’s a mark of protection and it makes Sid shiver. 

“How long until you have to leave,” he whispers against Zhenya’s lips. “Do you have time…?” 

“Make time for you,” he growls back. 


	7. Chapter 7

Sid’s still damp from the shower as he runs his fingers down the smooth fabric, stopping to thumb at the embroidered initials at the end of the sleeve. _S.C._

Even those are silky and perfect. 

He takes an instinctive step back when he hears Zhenya behind him, yanking his hand away from the pristine shirt hanging in front of him. An arm slips around his waist from behind, tugging him back gently. “Can touch, Sid. Not going to bite you.” 

“I know. It’s just…” His instinct is to keep his thoughts to himself but he knows Zhenya would just coax them out anyhow, wants Sid to be honest with him always. “I’ve never worn anything this expensive.” 

Zhenya squeezes gently and drops a kiss onto the top of his ear before murmuring, “Tell you I want to take most good care of you. Better than anyone ever do.” 

“You started doing that the first night we met.” It’s more candid than Sid usually is about his past but it’s the truth. He didn’t mean for it to slip out but he can’t regret saying it. Zhenya deserves to know. 

Zhenya pulls a little tighter, nuzzles under Sid’s ear. “My Sid,” he says softly, sounding almost hurt. “If I know then what I know now, I never let you leave that night. I bring you home and treat you how you deserve, take best care of you.” 

“You did,” Sid says softly, voice feeling thin. “You do.” 

“No. Wasn’t good enough then, you deserve more, better. That my goal every day, give you world if is what it takes.” 

“Zhenya,” he rasps, turning to tuck his face into Zhenya’s neck because if he doesn’t stop talking Sid might cry. He has enough to worry about tonight without crying like the lovesick fool he is. 

There’s movement, soft kisses being pressed into the top of his head while he works to even out his breathing. “Bring you little present. Maybe make you smile for me again?” He nuzzles at Sid’s forehead and it works. He’s smiling when he tips his head to gaze up at Zhenya. 

“You didn’t need to bring me a present.” 

“Is most big night, Sid. Taking you out, showing you off to everyone. Big occasion deserve at least little present. Besides,” he continues, cutting Sid off before he can protest. “Is little bit for me too.” And then he’s sliding a simple black box wrapped in gold ribbon into Sid’s hands. 

Sid shakes his head with a smile. “Oh my god, you’re too much.” 

Zhenya just grins, looking smug as ever but he doesn’t let go, staying pulled up close to Sid’s back as he watches him open the gift. 

Once the ribbon is off, it’s just a matter of sliding off the lid and lifting the delicate, shiny gold tissue paper to reveal—Sid sucks in a breath as he reaches out to touch the fabric. 

“Think maybe,” Zhenya’s voice is low in his ear. “You wear for me tonight, underneath new clothes, hm?” 

Sid is speechless, staring at the exquisite garment—he’s never seen anything like it, certainly never _worn_ anything like it. He feels more than hears the soft _tsk_ as Zhenya finally lets him go and lifts out the black, lacy boxer briefs with _Versace_ printed across the waistband. “What you think, baby,” Zhenya asks, the provocative drawl to his voice unmistakable. “You try on for me?” 

Sid can’t do anything but nod as he carefully takes the boxers and pulls them on. He briefly wonders if they’ll be itchy but the moment they hit his skin he knows they won’t. The lace is so soft and the fit—they hug his skin perfectly and Zhenya is already circling him, eyes darkening appreciatively as he reaches out to slide a hand on the fabric stretched snugly across Sid’s ass. “Mmm, look so good. You like?” 

“Yeah.” Sid licks his lips and somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders if they’ll even make it out of the walk-in closet, let alone all the way to dinner. But then Zhenya is backing away, looking even more smug. “You get dressed, I’m go change. If I stay here, we never leave apartment.” 

_I’d be okay with that_ , Sid thinks as he tries, once again, to will his breathing back to normal, this time for very different reasons. 

The restaurant, unsurprisingly, is easily the swankiest one Sid’s ever been in. Zhenya navigates the room, the staff, like he’s known them all for years. Maybe he has. Sid doesn’t know how else to explain the confidence Zhenya carries himself with, the easy way he talks to everyone he meets, knows exactly what to say to get the response he’s looking for. 

Sid knows Zhenya is a very, very powerful and dangerous man but when it’s just the two of them, it often doesn’t cross his mind anymore. But here, like this, watching Zhenya easily take command of the place—getting exactly what he wants, exactly when he wants it—sends a shiver down Sid’s spine. 

He worries a little, because he’s simply not capable of that kind of charisma, feels so out of place but Zhenya doesn’t seem at all concerned. He pulls Sid closer, arm firm around his waist, almost as if he’s protecting him from all the prying eyes as they’re escorted to their semi-private corner booth. One Zhenya admitted he chose specifically so that people would be able to see them but not feel invited to interrupt. 

Zhenya eases in right next to him, sliding an arm across the seat behind Sid and it makes him feel safe, protected. 

The menu is extensive and it takes a long time for Sid to decide on something. It would probably go faster if Zhenya’s lips didn’t keep ghosting across his ear lobe, hand creeping up his thigh. “You like new underwear, hmm,” he growls into Sid’s ear as he slides his hand higher. 

“Zhenya,” Sid admonishes, wide eyed but his pink cheeks and soft smile betray him and Zhenya laughs gently in his ear before leaning back. 

“Can’t help.” He glances around before looking back at Sid. “You so beautiful, like knowing everyone here see that you mine.” 

In the end Sid doesn’t make it past the first couple of items on the menu before he gives up completely and trusts Zhenya to recommend something. 

It doesn’t surprise him that the food is amazing—everything with Zhenya is. He relaxes a little more after a glass of wine and enjoys trying different things from his plate and maybe he blushes a little but he gladly accepts the bites Zhenya offers from his own meal. 

After dinner there are drinks at a private lounge with an unbelievable view of Pittsburgh. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d always assumed places like this existed but being here is surreal—and intimidating. He’s glad he already had the glass of wine earlier as Zhenya guides him through the sparse crowd. It’s a Monday so there aren’t a stifling amount of patrons but the ones that are there are very clearly wealthy and used to this environment. Sid is grateful when Zhenya orders drinks and passes him one with a cocky grin. 

It’s delicious but Sid’s really not surprised. 

And then Zhenya is pulling him close, getting even more handsy and when Sid looks at him, amused, his gaze is dark. “See that man, across bar? He been looking at you.” Zhenya slides his hands down over Sid’s ass, pulling him closer. “I’m think I need to show him to you taken, make him wish was him instead of me.” 

Sid’s cheeks are hot as Zhenya kisses him possessively before tugging on his arms. “Come dance with me, Sid,” he says, guiding them away from the bar before Sid has had a chance to do more than nod. 

Sid should be nervous, self conscious about all the eyes on them as Zhenya guides him in a slow, sultry dance but… Zhenya’s hands are on him and that’s never a bad thing. They keep creeping down to rub against spots where he knows lace lies underneath, stretched across Sid’s thighs and ass. It’s a heady feeling, to have all of Zhenya’s attention so completely on him, especially in a place like this and he can’t bring himself to think much about the people around them. 

And then Zhenya is pulling him even closer, dropping his lips to Sid’s ear before talking low and hot. “Know I say I show you night out on town, just keep thinking about you wearing lace for me, can’t stop thinking about take you home, strip you down, bend you over—” 

Sid’s doesn’t need to hear what Zhenya would have said next to know he wants whatever it is. “Yes,” he interrupts. “Please,” he says, voice coming out breathy. 

The ride home takes entirely too long for Sid’s taste but eventually, finally, they’re there and barely inside the door before Zhenya is backing him up against the wall. “Look so fucking good tonight. Love being out with you, love knowing you mine,” he growls softly, pulling roughly at the buttons on Sid’s shirt until they’re popping open. “Love knowing they look at you and want so bad and can’t have, can never have.” 

All Sid can do is nod in agreement as his head falls back against the wall. In less time than he thinks possible he’s undressed, all except for the lacy underwear that Zhenya keeps running his fingers over and around, pressing softly into Sid’s skin. And then his mouth is on Sid again, moving along his jaw and towards his neck. “What you think if I tie your hands, Sid? Tie them and then bend you over, fuck you so hard for drive me crazy all night. You want?” 

Sid wants. “Yeah. Please, Zhenya.” He really, really wants. 

Zhenya eyes are hooded as he yanks off his own tie and runs the silky fabric up and down Sid’s arms before gently pulling his wrists together. 

He knows how much Sid loves this, loves being bound and being good for him, and he takes his time. It’s a mark of tenderness underneath the desperation they’re both feeling, feels so good that Sid could weep—if Zhenya wasn’t busy driving him out of his mind, starting to open him up as he’s bent over the back of the couch looking out at the Pittsburgh skyline. 

And then Zhenya is draping over his back, still fully dressed save for his open fly, rubbing his cock up and down Sid’s crack, whispering all the ways he wants to fuck him tonight. Sid feels him catch on the lacy fabric that’s only pulled down just enough and smiles at Zhenya’s soft gasp. He wasn’t sure about these at first. Now he kind of wants to wear them every day. 

His smile drops away as Zhenya drags back up, starts to push into him, inch by slow inch. “You so fucking good for me, Sid,” he’s murmuring as he holds Sid tight. “Love taking you out. Love showing everyone you mine,” he pants, finally starting to move. 

“Yours,” Sid gasps. “Only yours.” 

Zhenya groans and drops his lips down to Sid’s ear. “Only mine,” he growls roughly, hips moving fast and hard now, staking his claim. 


	8. Chapter 8

Sid looks critically at his reflection in the mirror. No matter how many times he wears these clothes, it still doesn’t feel like he does them any justice. 

Zhenya however whole-heartedly disagrees, _loves_ showering Sid with expensive clothes and admiring him in them. Tonight is no different, Zhenya smiling with hooded eyes as he slips up behind him. He lays a kiss at the nape of Sid’s neck before moving to face him, carefully straightening his tie, adjusting his lapels, running fingers down the perfectly fitted vest under his jacket. “Look good, Sid.” 

“You always say that.” 

Sid licks his lower lip nervously before Zhenya leans down and kisses him slow, hot and wet before pulling away. “Always mean it, too.” 

Tonight they’re going to a charity event at the Carnegie Museum of Art. It’s gotten a little easier over time, going out with Zhenya to swanky events but he still much prefers their quiet dates over navigating social circles he’s not sure he’ll ever be entirely at ease with.

Sid sticks close and lets Zhenya do the talking, sipping at champagne and throwing in a few shy but polite words, nodding when necessary. He worried at first that Zhenya would expect him to be more outspoken and confident in situations like this but, instead, it seems like Zhenya finds his shyness charming. He keeps a protective hand on Sid’s back, never leaving him alone for very long. 

It’s one of those rare times, Sid tucked away in a corner for a breather while Zhenya speaks to someone halfway across the room, that the man approaches. Sid feels him before he can see him, the man sidling up close before he can react. “Кто-то такой красивый не должен оставаться один в углу.”

Sid startles, leaning away as he turns to take in the man next to him. He has a distinct look, younger than his salt and pepper hair would indicate, but Sid doesn’t think he’s ever seen him before. His Russian isn’t great but he knows enough now to understand at least a couple of words the man uttered and takes a step back, wanting to put distance between them. 

“I’m sorry,” he asks quietly, knowing he has to be careful. It doesn’t happen often but Sid has realized that occasionally when they’re out they come face to face with others who are in _The Business_. Sid doesn’t know in what capacity and he certainly doesn’t know about this one but the last thing Zhenya needs is Sid saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. 

“Ah, you speak English. I was just saying that it’s very sad to see such pretty boy all alone in the corner.” 

Sid feels a stab of defensiveness at the notion that Zhenya has done anything wrong. “I’m not alone,” he says with forced politeness. 

“Oh? What kind of escort leave such beautiful man unattended?” 

Sid swallows and glances at Zhenya. “He didn’t. I just stepped away for a minute.” 

The man tracks his glance, smiling when he realizes Sid is looking at Zhenya. Instead of backing off, though, he steps closer, looking Sid up and down with a lazy smirk. “How much he pay you, hm? Whatever it is, I pay you double. Triple, even. You too pretty for him.” 

Sid’s throat goes dry as he tries to take another step back and finds himself bumping against the wall. “He’s not—It’s not like that.” 

The man raises his eyebrows, amused. “Oh? Has he landed on you until the next beautiful boy comes along then?” 

Sid swallows again, sick to his stomach now. He’s ready to throw the polite act to the wind and make a dash for Zhenya when he hears the deep familiar rumble moving closer. 

“There you are, darling,” He says with a smile before dropping a kiss onto Sid’s curls.Sid breathes out a sigh of relief, sinking into Zhenya’s side as he draws even and slides a hand possessively around Sid’s waist. “Alexander. I see you meet my Sidney.” 

The man simply smiles, looking entirely at ease and not remotely sorry. “Мы не были должным образом представлены. Я просто заметил, что он выглядит очень одиноким, и удивился, кто оставит такую красоту себе?”

Zhenya’s fingers sink a little harder into Sid’s side. “Sidney, forgive the manners of my friend. This is Alexander. He was very concerned when he saw you. You see, he suspects I have been negligent, leaving you alone here.” 

Sid looks up at Zhenya, surprised and horrified at the implication. “No, that’s not…” He trails off before looking back at the man. “He didn’t leave me alone.” 

Zhenya chuckles darkly. “Not to worry, Solnyshka.” He turns to the man again. “Let me assuage your fears by assuring you my Sidney is _always_ very safe.” 

“Glad to hear it, Zhenya.” 

“Evgeni, I think, will work.” 

The man—Alexander—blanches a bit at that and there’s no mistaking the anger passing into his expression, however briefly, before he puts a smile back on his face. “Forgive me, Evgeni Vladimirovich.” 

“ _How have you been finding Pittsburgh. Is the new apartment suiting you during your stay?_ ” Zhenya says, switching to Russian. 

The man laughs. “ _Ah, of course I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I had arrived and where I am staying._ ” 

“ _You would be foolish to expect any less from me.”_

 

Zhenya’s body is relaxed, calm, but the tone of his words sinks into Sidney’s skin like cold water. He finds himself hoping this exchange is over very soon, wishing they could just leave altogether. 

“ _Ah, Evgeni, you will never change. Yes of course I expect that you are aware of who is visiting your city. I have had some business, as I’m sure you are aware. I am glad to run into you this evening as I wanted to invite you to dinner so that we could speak. Of course you should bring your lovely Sidney.”_

_“And as you’ve already been informed, we have no business together but I thank you for the invitation.”_

The man’s smile falters then but Zhenya doesn’t give him time to respond, slipping quickly back into English. “If you will excuse us, Sidney and I have other things to attend to.” 

He doesn’t wait for a response, guiding them away. They’re barely five feet away when he’s leaning in, lips brushing Sid’s ear as he talks quietly. “Sorry I leave you alone. What he say to you, hm?” 

Sid doesn’t want to tell Zhenya what the man—Alexander—said to him but he knows he has to. “He, um, offered me money to, um...” he trails off with a shrug. “I told him no and that it’s not like that with us.”

Zhenya pulls back just enough to look down at Sid, eyes narrowed. “Should never let him get anywhere near you. Won’t let it happen again. What else he say?” 

Sid sighs. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to tell Zhenya this part. “He said that I’m only here until someone better comes along for, um, for you.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says darkly, voice low and rough. He slides a hand across the back of Sid’s neck, pulling him close as he turns them both until Sid is tucked against a wall. “Should kill him for say this to you, my Sid.” 

“Hey, no, it’s not—I know he was just being a jerk.” 

Zhenya keeps his hand firmly on the back of Sid’s neck as he leans in close, kissing Sid slow and deep without warning, leaving him breathless when he finally pulls back an inch. “Not ever going to be anyone else. You _my_ Sid. Mine and I’m yours always,” he says, low and growly, sending shivers down Sid’s spine. 

Sid lets out a soft breath. “Promise?” 

Zhenya kisses him again, then, long and hard before answering. “Promise. And I’m never break promise.” 

Sid shivers again and leans closer into Zhenya’s embrace. “Can we go soon?” 

Zhenya smiles. “I think yes, we go now. I’m take you home, strip you down. Show you how much I’m want, how much you _mine._ ” 

Sid won’t argue with that. 

Zhenya winks at Sid before he guides them towards the door, smirking as they pass Alexander.


	9. Part 9

Sidney hates it when Zhenya is gone. 

When he’s not working, he putters around the big apartment feeling restless and missing Zhenya so much it hurts. He just wants Zhenya back so he can see his eyes, touch his face and let himself be wrapped up in the comfort of long, strong arms. 

Sid sighs and glances out the window. Zhenya was supposed to be home already but fucking Detroit and their fucking freezing rain have prevented that from happening. His plane did eventually get off the ground and not a moment too soon because there’s a snow storm forecast to hit Pittsburgh tomorrow. 

Sid doesn’t care about being snowed in as long as Zhenya is with him. 

With another sigh he scrolls through their text conversation from earlier. It was short and sweet, with Zhenya promising all sorts of wonderful things as soon as he’s home. _Maybe I’ll take you skating again,_ he’d written probably knowing full well how it would make Sid blush. 

_You remember?_ He’d asked, as if it had been longer than a couple of weeks ago; As if Sid could ever forget the delight he felt when Zhenya took him to a rink that was rented out the entire night just for them, the joy at gliding along the ice together, the pull of Zhenya’s fingers in his hair when Sid went to his knees in the locker room later...

He smiles to himself as he takes out his phone to call for a car. 

Sid technically still has his old apartment, though he hasn’t been there in weeks, maybe even longer. The rent’s paid up for another few months (something Zhenya had done when Sid was still living there) but it’s really just been storage for the few things Sid hasn’t dragged over yet. Now, as he steps in, it looks exactly the same as he left it and he thinks he really should go ahead and bring the last of his things to Zhenya’s soon. 

He finds what he’s looking for pretty quickly—he didn’t have much stuff before Zhenya came along—in the box labeled “Home.” He pulls the old skates out with a pained smile. Before everything changed, some of his best memories are of skating with his parents growing up. He doesn’t know what happened to all the skates he outgrew but he’d kept these. He knows the skates Zhenya bought him are superior in every way but these—he runs his fingers over the old gray laces—he thinks Zhenya will understand why he wants to try them again, just once. 

He casts a look at the other few things left in the box before putting the lid back on—old family photos, none more recent than eight years ago, a stuffed animal from his childhood, a couple of old notes his mother had left in his lunch box—he’s not here for any of that right now. 

Glancing around as he slings the skates over his shoulder, he realizes he doesn’t feel any connection to this apartment anymore. This isn’t home and it hasn’t ever really been. Home is with Zhenya.

The private car is still waiting out front for him, but in the time it took him to get the skates, it started sleeting. He stands just inside the door dreading the cold rain but he doesn’t have an umbrella so he’ll just have to be quick. 

He makes it three strides before he feels himself sliding and his hip and head both hit the pavement with a loud thud. 

The next thing he’s aware of is pain. Pain and rain in his face but before he can do anything about it there are hands trying to help him up and a steady voice. “Come on, I’ve got you. You’ll have to get that looked at.” 

At first he gratefully lets himself be guided, wincing as he reaches up to touch his head before making sure he has his skates. “Thanks,” he mumbles, as he finally gets to his feet, expecting the man to move on. 

But the man doesn’t let go, his grip tightens as he seems to be directing them both towards the open car door and Sid shakes his head, trying to clear it. “I got it, thanks.” 

The man doesn’t listen, just keeps hustling toward the car and Sid knows it’s the same car that brought him here but something is _wrong_ and he starts to struggle as the man pushes him down into the back seat. Sid reaches for the door, trying to slam it but the man is already climbing in and firmly saying “drive,” to the driver as Sid scrambles as far from him as he can get. 

“STOP! Let me out!” He grabs for his skates and holds one, blade side towards the man whose eyes have gone wide. 

“You don’t understand, I’m trying to help you.” 

“I don’t know you! Let me out of this car!” The man tries to raise his hands and Sid lunges forward with the skate. “I’ll fucking use this! Let me out!”

The man startles back, cursing loudly. “Tabarnak!” And then he’s taking out a phone and dialing, speaking rapidly in Russian and nothing makes any _sense_. 

Sid feels the panic rising in his throat. He has to get out of this car, he has to get away, he has to—

“Sid?” Sid freezes when he hears Zhenya’s voice. The man is turning his phone around so that Sid can see the screen and then there’s Zhenya’s face, drawn with concern. 

“Zhenya,” Sid rasps, terrified, tears springing to his eyes. 

“Sid, is okay,” Zhenya blurts. He sighs then, looking worried. “I hire him to keep you safe.” 

“What? Who?” Sid is so confused. His head hurts. 

The man flashes him a toothy smile. “I’m Marc-Andre, your personal security detail.” 

“I’m sorry, Sid,” Zhenya says, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Should have told you long time ago, just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Marc-Andre safe and he’s bring you to me right now.”

Sid swallows hard. “Are—” he stops and glances at the man before he looks at the phone again. He can’t wrap his head around this but he trusts Zhenya so he gives a shaky nod. “You promise? You’ll be there?” 

“Land half an hour ago. I’m see you in ten minutes.” 

Sid leans forward just enough to snatch the phone from the man—Marc Andre’s hands and scrambles away again. “Don’t hang up.” 

“Ok. I’m stay right here until you get to me.” 

Sid clutches the phone like a lifeline for the rest of the trip, eyeing Marc-Andre suspiciously from time to time. 

“If a call comes through that says Vero, you gotta let me know. That’s my girl.” 

Sid glares and Marc-Andre rolls his eyes with a sigh. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” 

“Get paid plenty,” is Zhenya’s response. 

“He threatened me with a skate blade!” 

Sid doesn’t feel bad. Zhenya smiles. “That’s my smart Sid. Fight when it someone you don’t know.” 

Eventually, they pull to stop in front of a big brick and stone house. Sid’s never been there before, has no idea who lives there but all he cares about is that Zhenya is there, pacing in the driveway as they pull up. He yanks the door open before the car is even at a full stop and Sid spills out into his arms with a soft cry of relief. 

“Shhh,” Zhenya says softly into his hair. “Got you now, you safe. Am so sorry, my Sid. Should have told you long time ago, should never put you in position like this.” 

“I told you,” comes the chirpy reply behind them and Sid looks up in time to see Zhenya glaring at Marc-Andre’s retreating form. 

Sid sticks close to Zhenya, still not sure where they’re at or why they’re here until a harried looking man with striking blue eyes answers the door and ushers them in. 

He briefly introduces himself as “Dr. Cullen—You can call me Matt,” before falling into fluent Russian as he leads them to what can only be described as an in-home exam room on the lower level of his home.

He examines Sid’s head and hip, runs a concussion protocol and asks a lot of questions about pain, the fall and how Sid’s feeling. In the end he tells Zhenya he feels confident there’s no concussion and sends them home with a long list of things to watch for. 

Back in the car, Sid leans his head on Zhenya’s shoulder, worn out and overwhelmed. Marc-Andre sits across from them, tapping away on his phone and occasionally speaking to Zhenya in what Sid recognizes as French.

“ _You should have told him about me. He was terrified._ ” 

“ _Not interested in your input, Flower_.” 

Marc-Andre shrugs. “ _Just trying to help._ ” 

It’s clear that neither of them has any idea that he can understand them. 

“ _How long have you been following me?_ ” Sid asks in, admittedly rusty French. Both of their heads pop up, eyes wide. 

Marc-Andre looks from Sid to Zhenya and that—Sid glares and sits up, pulling away from Zhenya’s grip. “ _I have a right to know._ ” 

Zhenya stares for a moment, looking worried before he finally nods at Marc-Andre. 

“ _Since the night Evgeni brought you home from the club.”_

Sid swivels to look at Zhenya in disbelief. “ _That long?_ ”

“ _I’m sorry, Sid. I should have told you._ ” 

Sid crosses his arms with a frown. “ _Yeah, you should have.”_ He snaps his mouth shut after that because he’s hurt and angry but he doesn’t intend to hash any of that out in front of a stranger. Some things should be kept private and—Sid’s heart sinks, thinking back to all the other moments that he thought were private. Were they really as private as he though? How much had this man seen and heard? A lot? Everything?

“Sid…” Zhenya starts in English, touching his arm gently and Sid scoots away, turning to face the window as he wraps his arms tightly around himself. 

Zhenya doesn’t push; the rest of the car ride is awkward but quiet. Sid’s head is pounding and his eyes burn. He’s not sure why he’s so upset—part of him isn’t even that surprised. He knows firsthand how quickly and effortlessly Zhenya’s guard, for lack of a better term, blend into surroundings and pop up just as quickly when they’re needed. But the fact that Zhenya didn’t trust him to know someone was watching his every move _hurts_. 

He’s just not sure how much that will matter to Zhenya. He’s prioritized Sid’s safety from day one. Sid’s pretty sure this is not only non-negotiable, but he wonders if Zhenya will even be able to understand why it’s so upsetting. He feels guilty almost as soon as the thought crosses his mind. Zhenya has never been harsh or uncaring with him, has always taken his feelings into account but then he also assigned someone, probably more than one person, to track his every move. 

Sid sighs and shifts closer to the door, wishing the drive was over. 

\--

Back at the apartment, Sid takes his time in the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes and lingering in a warm shower, trying to make some sense of his thoughts. He loves Zhenya and part of what he loves is how safe Zhenya has always made him feel. This has to be a part of that. He wishes he could sort that from the hurt of being kept in the dark, treated as though he doesn’t need or deserve to know. 

Ultimately his head hurts too much to stay in the shower so he pulls on sweats and pads out to their bedroom. Zhenya is sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his dress pants and shirt, having only shed his jacket and shoes. His elbows are resting on his knees and his head is hanging as he looks down at the carpet. 

Sid’s stomach twists. He’s still not sure he’s gotten anything sorted out enough to articulate it to Zhenya. He’s not even sure if he has the right to be upset but it hurts, regardless. He and Zhenya have never fought and he doesn’t want to be right now. With a ragged sigh, he sits next to Zhenya on the bed, leaving a few inches between them. 

It’s Zhenya who moves first, reaching over to wrap his hand around Sid’s, the tenderness of the touch making tears prick at Sid’s eyes. A small thread of relief and hope rears his head and oh he hopes it’s not premature. He forces himself to meet Zhenya’s gaze and what he sees surprises him. Zhenya looks wrecked, face full of guilt and worry. 

Before he can dwell on it Zhenya is moving, easing to his knees in front of Sidney and reaching up to cup his face gently. 

“I was wrong. Was bad choice not to tell you and I am so sorry, lyubov moya.” 

Sid sucks in a breath, blinking rapidly as relief floods him. Maybe he won’t have to explain it, maybe Zhenya already understands. His voice is thin and shaky when he speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Was afraid knowing would scare you, would make you think you not safe. Sid, even though we not talk about some details, to be with me means there is always danger. You most important to me, have to keep you safe. If I’m not keep you protected at all times, could be very bad.” 

Sid swallows. He’d known it, of course, but he hadn’t thought about it that way. 

“Know is scary to hear so I just assign most well equipped men to you. Instruct them to stay out of sight and not bother you unless absolutely necessary. Your safety is number one priority.”

“It just—I’m sorry, Zhenya. I believe you and it is scary but I just wish...I know it’s probably stupid to want you to have told me but…” He trails off, shaking his head a little. 

“Not stupid, Sid. _I’m_ stupid for not tell you right away. Underestimate you so much and now you feel like privacy violated.” 

Sid nods because it’s true. “Did they—do they see everything?” He swallows hard, sick at the thought. 

“No. Just aware of your location and close by at all times. If they see you talk to someone, they’re not hear your conversation, just know you talking to someone.” 

“What about us? Things we do?” Sid’s cheeks pink a little as he thinks back to the locker room at the rink. 

Zhenya shakes his head again. “Absolutely not. Same situation. They aware we together, but not know what we doing. I’m have ways to summon if needed. Not ever intend to take away privacy, only to keep you safe.” 

Sid breathes a sigh of relief. Knowing that helps—a lot. “Promise me you won’t keep something like this a secret from me again? Please Zhenya. I was so scared tonight. I felt so stupid.” 

Zhenya pushes up a little further, resting his forehead against Sid’s. “You not stupid, already tell you, I’m stupid. Most stupid. I promise, will never keep thing like this from you again.” 

Sid nods, closing his eyes for a moment as he relishes being close to Zhenya again. 

“A lot to ask, I know but please, you forgive me, Sid?” 

Sid reaches up, runs a hand through Zhenya’s hair and then nods even as he’s leaning into Zhenya’s tight hug. “I forgive you. I love you Zhenya. I missed you so much.” 

Zhenya shifts to his feet and, without letting Sid go, maneuvers them together onto the bed. “Miss you more than you ever know, lyubov moya.” 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Having round-the-clock personal security is an adjustment for Sid. 

Although, as Zhenya reminds him, he’s had it for a long time so _knowing_ about it is an adjustment. 

He tries to take it in stride. It’s just—

He feels weird. Every time he gets tea while he’s out he wonders if he should offer one to his security detail too. The thing is, he wouldn’t even know where to look if he wanted to spot the man but he knows he’s there. 

The first time he goes to dinner with Zhenya after the concussion, he finds himself glancing curiously around the restaurant instead of taking in the view of Pittsburgh’s skyline that Zhenya no doubt brought them here for. 

Zhenya stares at him for a moment before furrowing his brow. “Something wrong? You need waiter?” 

Sid leans forward, eyes still glancing around and says in a hushed voice, “Where are they?” 

Zhenya leans forward too, looking confused as he whispers back, “Who?” 

Sid meets his eye, blushing as he finally catches Zhenya’s expression. “The, um, the security guys.” 

“Oh! Have to say, little relieved that’s all it is. Was little worried for a second.” He’s teasing, the half grin and spark in his eye giving him away. “Maybe this something we discuss in car after dinner?” 

“Right,” Sid mumbles, blushing. “Sorry.” 

Zhenya gives Sid’s knee a squeeze under the table. “No need for sorry.” 

Sid’s used to Zhenya’s work interrupting them so when he frowns at his phone and says, “Stay here, I’m be right back,” he doesn’t worry. Instead he enjoys the view as Zhenya strides away briskly. 

He finishes his own dinner and is just contemplating stealing a couple bites of Zhenya’s when he hears a heavily accented voice say “Hello Pretty,” and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His shoulders stiffen as Alex slides into a chair across from him.

“Keep meeting you like this. All alone.” he says, with a smile. 

“I’m not alone,” Sid protests, shaking his head. 

Alex makes a show of looking at Zhenya’s empty seat. 

Sid fights the urge to roll his eyes. “He’ll be right back.”

“I have no doubt.” 

“What do you need Mr. Ovechkin?” 

“Please, call me Sasha.”

“No thank you,” Sid blurts, feeling the heat rise on his cheeks. He braces himself for the response, immediately worried he’s crossed a line, unsure what the rules are for talking to someone in the business. Particularly one who isn’t in Zhenya’s good graces but he can’t imagine ever using the nickname. 

Alex just laughs, though, relaxing back into the chair. “I can see why Zhenya likes you so much. You’re very sweet.”

The praise makes Sidney’s stomach churn and he ducks his head, feeling far out of his depth. Suddenly he’s intensely grateful knowing someone is keeping watch. 

“You can relax, Sidney. Despite what Evgeni may have told you, I don’t intend to cause any trouble. I merely wanted to extend an invitation to dinner, both of you.” 

“Then you should ask Zhenya.” 

Alex smiles. “That’s where I may need your help. I believe you work for him at his Malkin Foundation, yes?” 

Sid blinks, forcing himself not to react. Alex shouldn’t know where he works. He fights the urge to glance around for security and wishes more than anything that Zhenya would come back right now. 

“I want to become involved in the Foundation and other aspects of your Zhenya’s organization. I think I could be a tremendous asset to him. Evgeni has turned down my invitation but I hope maybe if you understand it would benefit him and the foundation you will help convince him to reconsider.”

”If he turned you down, he had a reason. I can’t change that.” Sidney doesn’t mention that even if he could, he wouldn’t. 

Alex glances over Sid’s shoulder and stands up with a smile. “I have a lot of money, Sidney. I could do a lot of good things with it, if you’d only help me out a little bit. It would be in Evgeni’s best interest.” 

Sid’s breath catches in his throat as Alex’s hand covers his shaking one where it lays on the table. He swiftly pulls it away as Marc-Andre slides into the chair on Sid’s other side. 

“Ovechkin,” He says in greeting, expression smooth and cool. 

Alex nods, flashing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Fleury.” He turns back to Sid. “You should consider it, Pretty.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving Sid shaking and desperate for Zhenya’s presence. 

He glances up at Flower whose expression is dark. “Marc,” he starts, voice hitching. 

“He’s aware and on his way to escort you to the car.” 

Sid draws in a shaky breath and waits. 

\--

Sid has never seen Zhenya so angry. 

He sits quietly in the back of the car, slotted safely between Zhenya and Marc but the comfort he hoped to find in Zhenya’s arms hasn’t happened yet. After he’d hustled Sid to the car, he immediately started barking angry Russian into his phone. 

Sid tucks his hands between his legs, trying to quell the shaking as Marc nudges his arm gently. 

Zhenya only ends the call when they’re pulling into the parking garage of their building and Sid’s never been so relieved to be home. If he can’t tuck himself into Zhenya’s arms right now, at least he can tuck himself into their bed. 

But then Zhenya hustles him into the building, the frown never leaving his face as he diverts Sid to a stairwell and they go down instead of up. Sid doesn’t question it but his anxiety is rising as they keep descending and go through one, two, three heavy steel doors. Zhenya doesn’t say a word the entire time. 

Finally, at the end of another windowless, cement hallway, Zhenya scans them through one last heavy door, letting it close heavily behind them as they emerge into a large room. It’s furnished, a long table littered with some expensive looking computer equipment and surrounded by chairs, though less than half of them are taken. Guentzel, Letang and Oleksiak are all there and a handful of other men that Sid doesn’t recognize but that are all wearing the same grim expression. 

Zhenya starts talking as Marc instructs Sid to sit in one of the chairs. “Cullen has been notified?” He asks a very tall man with dark eyes. 

“Yes. He and his family are secure.” 

“And the others?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Zhenya nods before _finally_ turning his attention to Sid. “Take off your jacket.” 

Sid swallows, hesitating. 

“Your jacket, Sidney.” Sid’s hands start to shake again as he fumbles the jacket off and passes it to Zhenya’s outstretched hand. He immediately passes it to Marc with a quiet instruction in Russian. 

Sid’s eyes widen as he watches Marc rip out part of the lining and pull out— Sid’s heart sinks as he looks up at Zhenya. There was a recording device in his jacket. Zhenya doesn’t trust him. He barely registers Marc connecting it to one of the computers as he fights back tears.

Zhenya meets his eyes for a moment, expression not changing but holding Sid’s gaze for a few seconds longer than necessary before he looks away, shrugging out of his own jacket. But instead of tossing it on a chair, he turns it inside out and yanks out a part of the lining. He pulls out an identical device and tosses it to Letang before casting one more long look at Sid. 

The next couple of hours pass in a blur. Sid listens silently, largely ignored while both his and Zhenya’s recordings are scrutinized over and over again. The only indication that they’re even aware he’s still there is when Marc says, “Good job keeping your cool, Sid,” and a very brief, sudden squeeze of Zhenya’s hand on his knee under the table. 

After that their conversation shifts to plans for surveillance and the plan of action. Sid does his best to tune it all out. He’s long since realized that the comfort and reassurance he needs isn’t going to come from Zhenya. It’s not until he droops in his chair, wishing more than anything he could just lay his head down and go to sleep, that Zhenya stops to look over at him. 

Sid looks down. He doesn’t want Zhenya to see how upset he is. 

But Zhenya must see something because he says quietly to the group. “I need attend to some things. Get to work. I won’t be long.” 

Zhenya guides Sid back into the corridor but instead of going upstairs, they go just two doors down into what looks like a small apartment. They’re in what looks like the living space, fully furnished and there’s a kitchenette on the far side of the room. Through an open doorway, Sid can see a huge bed and nightstands. It’s windowless, of course, like the rest of this part of the building and the door to the corridor is heavy steel. 

“Bathroom off of bedroom” Zhenya says before motioning toward the kitchenette. “Kitchen have everything you need for tonight.” 

Sid nods, still not willing to meet Zhenya’s eyes. He wonders if Zhenya will come join him or if he has some other, separate space. Does he even want Sid still? Does he really think Sid would do anything to betray him? Sid feels sick. 

“Sid—” Zhenya starts but Sid shakes his head. 

“Can I go to bed now?” 

“Of course.”

Zhenya doesn’t say a word as Sid fishes his phone out of the pants pocket, holding it out to Zhenya. “You probably should take this too, so you’ll know for sure I’m not in here calling someone to rat you out,” he says before turning away, stripping out of his shirt as he heads into the bedroom. 

Zhenya follows, expression stony as he grabs Sid’s arm, forces him to turn and look him in the eye. “I _never_ say that, Sid.” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

Zhenya sets his jaw but Sid interrupts before he can retort. “It’s fine. Part of the deal, I get it now. You should probably get back, though.” 

Sid tries to turn away again but Zhenya pulls him back, reaches up to grip Sid’s jaw firmly.

“You think is about trust? You wrong! This isn’t a game, Sid. You have no idea the danger you in just for being with me! I find out about possible leak and had to take security measures. Not just you, for all of us. You think our clothes only ones bugged? You think recording only function of device? They for fucking tracking, in case something happen. Maybe I go back on what I say before but I’m not sorry. Won’t ever apologize for do what it takes to keep everyone safe!” 

Sid swallows hard, throat thick. He wants Zhenya to take him to bed and hold him all night long, he wants to cry into Zhenya’s arms and feel the safety that’s always there. But he’s already walking away—the organization needs him more.

Zhenya sighs. “Have to go. Goodnight, Sid.” 

He doesn’t wait for Sid to reply. A moment later the door shuts behind him with a heavy thud. 

\--

Sid has no idea how much time has passed when he wakes and at first, isn’t sure what woke him. But then he feels a hand pushing his hair back, hears a soft sigh as it pulls away and the deep rumble of Zhenya murmuring, “душа моя” as he retreats to the sitting room. 

Sid finally opens his eyes, watching through the open door as Zhenya downs some pain killers with a bottle of water. He looks—well he still looks as focused and intense as he has all night, if a little bit more tired around the eyes now. 

He glances wearily toward the bedroom before stripping off his tie, shoes and belt. Sid wonders if he’ll come to bed as Zhenya turns the light out. But even with only the light from the stove clock, Sid can make out his silhouette dropping heavily to the couch, arms braced on his knees for a moment before running his hands through his hair. A second later the light from his phone illuminates the room and Sid watches as he settles back, crossing his feet on the coffee table as he pokes his finger at the screen. Sid wonders if he’s still working or if he’s unwinding with the game he doesn’t want anyone to know he plays. 

Without really thinking about it he gets to his feet and heads quietly for the sitting room. He hesitates in the doorway, Zhenya is already looking up at him. His gaze is intense as Sid approaches but he doesn’t hesitate, dropping the phone off to his side as he pulls Sid carefully into his lap. 

Sid lets himself be wrapped up for a few moments, sinking into the feeling that he’s been longing for all night. The tight knot of tension he’s been carrying all night finally starts to unravel as Zhenya drops soft kisses first in his hair before moving down to his lips. After a few more moments, Sid pulls back, getting to his feet much to Zhenya’s displeasure. But then he reaches for Zhenya, tugging on his hand and the dip in his brow smooths out as he lets Sid lead him to bed. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> душа моя = My Soul


	11. Chapter 11

Sid is braced against the shower wall, breathing hard as Zhenya fucks into him from behind—hard, fast, relentless. 

Sid loves it. 

Zhenya had woken up agitated, reaching for Sid as he grumbled soft Russian in his ear that verged on growling. 

Now as he moves he alternates between biting at the tender skin on Sid’s neck and murmuring in his ear. “You mine, Sidney. I kill him for touching you.” 

Sid shivers. He believes Zhenya but he thinks Ovechkin’s days were numbered since he sat down at the table with Sidney. 

He’s not giving it a lot of thought at the moment, though, because Zhenya has shifted his angle the tiniest bit, is getting him just right and he’s losing his _mind_. 

By the time the shower runs cold Sid’s neck is covered in marks and Zhenya has an arm wrapped firmly around his waist, keeping him steady on his feet. 

Sid is happy. 

An hour later Zhenya’s got him pinned to the bed, hard cock head teasing at Sid’s hole when there’s a knock at the main door. Zhenya growls in frustration but pulls back and Sid lets out a whimper. Zhenya palms an ass cheek and leans over to plant a quick kiss on Sid’s spine. “I know baby. But could be important. You wait for me.” 

It’s Marc-Andre knocking and if he’s phased by a very cranky, very naked Zhenya answering the door, it doesn’t show. It doesn’t take long for them to have a hushed conversation in Russian, Zhenya finishing with “Give me an hour,” as Marc-Andre leaves the room. 

Sid can’t help his smile as he watches Zhenya stride back to the bed. “I get you for another whole hour?” 

Zhenya returns the grin as he climbs onto the bed and Sid. “Would keep you here all day if I could.” 

“Nothing would make me happier.” 

“We have an hour. I take care of you, then I work little bit. Come back to you by dinner.” 

“Promise?” Sid’s voice is softer than he meant it to be but Zhenya nods. 

“Promise,” Zhenya whispers and kisses him hard. 

True to his word, Sid is _well_ taken care of and they are both freshly showered by the time Marc-Andre returns. Zhenya is still buttoning his shirt when he opens the door with a smug grin before turning back to the bedroom. 

“Get dressed, baby. If you feel safe, Fleury take you upstairs.” 

Sid, sleepy-eyed and comfortable perks up at that. “Home?” 

Zhenya smiles, leaning over to kiss him. “Home. Just needed to be sure is safe first.” 

Marc-Andre snickers as he leads Sid up towards the main building. “I take it you two made up?” he asks with a smirk. Sid thinks he should be a little embarrassed—he knows how he looks—but he can’t stop smiling. 

He shrugs, feeling his ears turn pink and just not caring. 

“Thank god. He was a fucking bear to deal with.” 

That wipes the smile off of Sid’s face for a moment and he swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Sid trails off, not sure how much they know of what he said to make Zhenya so angry last night. 

Marc-Andre swivels his head to stare at Sid, amused. “Why are _you_ sorry? He’s pissed at Ovechkin, not you.” 

Sid shakes his head. “I know but I, um, I said some things last night and I just..” he trails off, not wanting to admit how childish he’d been acting. 

Marc-Andre just laughs though. “Doesn’t matter what you said. He’s ready to rip Ovechkin’s fingers off one by one for touching you. I don’t blame him. If that fucker touched Vero I’d do the same.” 

Sid’s eyes widen. “You mean for real…?” 

Marc-Andre raises an eyebrow. “Sid. You know who you’re with and what he does.” 

Sid swallows hard. “I, um. Yeah. Yeah.” 

“Just don’t worry about it, okay? Ovechkin had it coming anyhow, trying to butt in on our territory and then trying to make amends by sending women and gifts.” He shakes his head, snorting as he says it. “It’s not like he wasn’t warned. But instead of retreating he threw down the gauntlet and sealed his own fate.” 

“He tried to send, um, women?” 

Marc-Andre grins. “Women, men—anyone he thought Evgeni would be interested in. He never counted on you, though. It’s an insult that he thought Evgeni could be so easily convinced to stray from you. You don’t insult Evgeni Malkin and get away with it. So for him to show up there last night, to _touch_ you and lay down a threat? He’s a dead man.” 

“Is he, um...?” 

“Not yet but he will be and Evgeni will be the one to do it.” 

Sid swallows hard again. “Is that, um, is that what Zhenya’s doing now?” 

“We don’t have Ovechkin yet but we did find one source of the leak. Evgeni’s dealing with him.” 

Sid can guess what that means. 

“You okay, Sid?” 

Sid thinks about it for a moment, realizes he is. “Yeah.” 

Jake’s standing guard outside the apartment, nodding when he sees them. Sid thinks Marc-Andre will probably take over the post but, instead, he follows along inside the apartment. 

“Boss’ orders,” he says, before Sid gets a word out. “You are not to be left alone in the apartment for now.” 

“Can I at least change alone?” Sid asks, blushing, earning him a grin in return. 

“I think that will be acceptable,” comes the smirky reply. “And if you want me to sit somewhere like the balcony or something so you can have some privacy, just tell me. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.” 

Sid frowns. “I’m not making you sit on the balcony, Marc-Andre.” 

“Flower.” 

“Huh?” 

“I told you to call me Flower.” 

Sid rolls his eyes. “Fine. _Flower_. Just… sit down somewhere. I’ll cook and you can keep me company until Zhenya comes home.” 

“Deal.” 

\--

Life slowly returns to normal—or something like it. 

Zhenya won’t let Sid go to the actual offices of the Foundation any more and though he doesn’t have to stay in the apartment at all times, there are a list of places he simply can’t go to. He sees a lot more of Flower, Kris and Jake, though he thinks that they’re around as much as they ever were, they’re just more visible now. 

Zhenya starts taking Sid out again every few nights, wanting to send a message to everyone that he will not be intimidated. But Sid’s nervous every time and after their third dinner date in a week, Zhenya reaches for Sid’s shaky hand in the car, pulling him close. 

“Need to go to Miami in few weeks for business,” he says quietly, nuzzling Sid’s cheek. “You come with me. Need to get away, relax a little bit.” 

It’s not really a question but Sid nods anyway.

\--

Sid gazes out at the familiar Pittsburgh skyline. Even on cold, drizzly nights like this it’s beautiful. Still, as he turns back to the fancy ballroom full of Pittsburgh’s richest, gathered for a charity dinner, he really just wishes they were already in Miami. 

He feels a gentle hand on the small of his back and sighs, leaning into the touch. “Penny for thoughts?” He hears, rumbling gently in his ear and he looks up at Zhenya with a soft smile. 

“Just wishing we were already in Miami.” 

“Only couple more days then we get a break from the bad weather.” 

Sid eyes the throngs of people milling about the room. “It’s not the weather that I’m struggling with.” 

Zhenya pulls him around so that they’re facing each other, taking Sid’s hands. “I know.” 

Sid huffs out a breath, pulling a little closer to Zhenya. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain. This is—” He looks around the room, “This is good. All these people—they’re raising a lot of money.” 

Zhenya kisses his forehead. “Yes, is good and important I’m be here but know is not your favorite. Thank you for come with me, Sid. Another hour, maybe, then we go.” 

Sid nods, smiling up at him. He just has to get through another hour. 

Ten minutes later he’s gratefully escaping to the bar after Zhenya rescued him from an awkward conversation with a man he doesn’t know. 

“Sid?” 

He whips his head around at the female voice, not able to place it until his eyes land on a vaguely familiar bright-eyed forty-something with stunning red hair. “Gwen,” he says with a smile, extending his hand. 

It’s a relief to see a somewhat familiar face; he’d worked with Gwen a handful of times through the Foundation. She’d always been generous despite the rumors that she and her businessman husband had hit some financially rocky waters. 

They spend the next fifteen minutes catching up over drinks, tucked away from the the thickest of the crowds. Eventually she glances over his shoulder before flashing a sly smile. “Either someone really likes your backside or your beau is anxious to see you again.” 

Sid looks over his shoulder, breaking into a wide smile as he meets Zhenya’s eyes. Zhenya winks before Sid turns back to Gwen, blushing happily. 

“I think both,” she says with a waggle of her eyebrows and Sid giggles into his drink. 

He marvels for a moment, at how just locking eyes with Zhenya for that moment made him warm all over. He thinks about Miami and all the time they’ll have together there, away from the cold and stress of Pittsburgh. Zhenya has vowed to keep Sid naked as much as possible and the thought makes Sid feel impossibly warmer. 

He absently reaches up, clumsily pushing his hair back, smiling down into his now nearly empty drink. Oh. He doesn’t remember drinking that much but he must have. He finishes it off, thinking vaguely of ordering another. The drinks are cold and it’s getting warmer in here. He turns toward the bar but finds Gwen blocking his vision with a soft frown. “Sid?” 

“Hm?” 

“Are you okay? You look kind of…” She trails off, watching as he wipes his forehead again. _When did it get so hot in here?_

“I’m—” he starts, suddenly struggling to find the right words. “Is it hot in here?” He tugs at his collar as Gwen takes the empty glass from his hand. 

Sid glances around, feeling more off kilter than he expected. He tries to look for Zhenya but everything is blurring the more he moves and he thinks the drinks must have been stronger than he expected. Maybe he should have eaten more, he thinks, before squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, trying to clear his vision. If anything that makes things worse and he finds himself listing slowly to the side when he opens them again. 

Gwen’s eyes are wide now. “Oh honey,” she says, voice full of concern as she slips an arm around his waist. “You need some air.” 

“Yeah,” he slurs. “Too hot.” 

She guides him toward one of the outer doors, keeping close to the walls and moving quicker than he would have expected. But maybe that’s just the drinks talking. “Wait,” he mumbles, struggling to make his tongue work. 

“We have to get you out of here.” 

Sid shakes his head and everything spins. “Need...Zhenya…”

Gwen doesn’t respond, or if she does he doesn’t hear her. She’s leading him through a set of french doors and, for a moment after they step outside, Sid feels relieved as the cold breeze slaps at his clammy skin. 

But everything is still spinning and Gwen just keeps leading him further and further along the garden pathways and he just wants to _stop_. 

“Need to sit,” he garbles, barely getting the protest out. 

“In a minute,” is her only reply and he doesn’t understand why they can’t just sit down. 

He stumbles, leaning harder against her and struggling to keep his balance now as her voice seems farther and farther away. “...fading fast...hurry...help...need to go…” They’re the last words Sid hears before he closes his eyes. 

\--

Sid wakes with a soft groan. 

It’s dark and his head is killing him. His mouth feels like he hasn’t had a drop of water in years. But the bed underneath him is soft and warm and he lets himself drift. He vaguely registers that the pillows don’t smell right and wonders if the laundry service used something different this time. 

Somewhere behind him a soft light clicks on and Sid groans, burrowing his face under the covers for a moment as he wills himself slowly back to full consciousness. It takes a few moments but eventually he pulls the blankets back down, blinking rapidly as he tries to focus. 

The moment he realizes this is not his bedroom is the same moment he hears a sickeningly familiar voice behind him.

“Hello Pretty.” 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for kidnapping, violence, gun violence, murder, injuries, forced drugging, implied threat of future sexual assault.

Sid flails, trying to untangle himself from the bedding and get to his feet. The moment he’s upright everything starts spinning and he has to hunch over the bed to keep from falling. 

“Sit down, Sidney.” 

Sid swallows hard, blinking rapidly, realizing too late that he’s nearly naked but for his boxer briefs. _Fuck_. “Want my clothes,” he manages to string the words together, glaring.

Ovechkin smiles, walking towards him. “But you’re so much prettier without them.” 

Sid stumbles, trying to back away without losing his balance. “Zhenya will kill you.” 

“He’ll be dead before he has the chance to try,” he says with a laugh. “Now sit down.” 

Sid forces himself to stand up a little straighter,swallowing back the bile that rises in his throat. He can’t let himself think about what Ovechkin is saying—it’s too horrible to comprehend. “You’re wrong,” he says, shaking his head. “He’ll come for me and he’ll kill you.” He tries to sound confident but his hands are shaking. 

Ovechkin sighs. “Stubborn. It’s very cute. Still, no sense in being foolish. You’re obviously still feeling unwell. I brought you some water,” he says, holding the bottle out towards Sid. “And food is coming. You should drink this now.” 

Sid purses his lips and looks away, tucking his arms tight around his torso. 

“Sidney, this is not a request.” 

Sid doesn’t move and Ovechkin sighs again, finally moving to stand directly in front of him. He flinches, leaning away from the water bottle Ovechkin holds out to him. “Drink it. Now.” 

On impulse Sid knocks the bottle out of his hands. “Fuck y—”

He doesn’t finish, can’t when Ovechkin backhands him, knocking him from his feet to a crumpled heap on the floor. Sid tastes blood and his eyes sting with tears as he tries to breathe through the pain. He’s relieved when Ovechkin walks away but flinches when he comes back after a moment. Before he can think about it there’s a hand, tight in his hair, yanking his head up. Ovechkin is smiling but there’s nothing kind in his eyes as he holds Sid’s head up with one hand and offers the water bottle with the other. “Drink. It.” 

Sid takes the bottle with shaking hands, does his best to drink while willing himself not to throw up. He manages a few sips before Ovechkin finally releases him with a push. “Your time here can be very good or very bad but one way or another you will comply. The choice is yours.” 

Then he’s gone again, leaving Sid alone and bleeding on the floor with no way out. 

Sid hurts. His head is still so fuzzy and now it’s throbbing, too, his lip is bleeding where it split open. All he wants to do is close his eyes but he forces himself to his feet, instead, unsteadily making his way around the small, windowless room searching for any way out or anything that could help him. 

There’s nothing. 

Trying hard not to cry he pulls a blanket from the bed and curls up on the floor, desperately hoping Zhenya is safe, wherever he is. 

It’s hard to tell how much time is passing but he doesn’t think it’s been longer than maybe half an hour when Ovechkin is back with soup and juice. Sid doesn’t want it but he’s too weak and groggy to put up much of a fight when Ovechkin forces him to drink both. They burn his lip, especially the juice and anger bubbles up inside him as Ovechkin forces him to take another mouthful of juice, ordering him, “swallow it.” 

Mustering up every bit of energy he has he smiles defiantly before spitting it in Ovechkin’s face instead. 

The first crack of the hand across his face hits him so hard his teeth rattle. He loses track of everything after that. 

Instinctively his hands fly up, trying to to protect his head and face but Ovechkin overpowers him easily, shoving him to his belly on the floor before he binds Sid’s hands behind his back. A moment later he’s being dragged roughly to sit up again and this time when Ovechkin puts the juice to his lips with a cruel smile, Sid drinks, blinking through the tears. 

When the juice is gone, Ovechkin reaches out and grips Sid’s chin, smiling when he sees Sid wince in pain. “I warned you, Sidney. I will break you.” His eyes narrow as he squeezes cruelly before letting Sid go. “I hope you’re ready to comply by the time I come back. It’s such a shame, messing up such a pretty face.”

When he’s gone, Sid curls up on his side and cries himself to sleep. 

\--

He jerks awake with a jolt.

The room is empty and at first he’s not sure what woke him. Then he hears it again—a series of distinct pops and bangs—and struggles to sit up. Sleep hasn’t done anything to clear his head—if anything it’s worse and in the back of his mind he realizes the juice was probably drugged. 

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because the noises—gunshots, he realizes—are getting closer. For a moment his heart leaps. _Zhenya_. But even if it means Zhenya is here, Ovechkin’s men are armed, too. 

He’s unsteady as he crawls across the room to the far side of the bed. The door slams open just as he hunches down and he squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying not to make a sound. It doesn’t matter. 

Fingers dig painfully into his arm, yanking him up. “Did you think you could hide, Pretty?” 

Sid struggles to stay on his feet, heart sinking when he sees the gun in Ovechkin’s other hand. Ovechkin laughs. “Let’s hope I don’t have to use it on you. We’ve barely gotten to know each other.” 

Ovechkin drags him from the room and pushes him down the hall, keeping a vice grip on his arm the whole time. More than once it’s the only thing that keeps him from falling. They’re moving further away from the commotion, away from _Zhenya_. Sid knows he has to do something but he can’t fight and he feels himself start to panic. _What if Ovechkin gets them out of here? What if he takes Sid away from here and Zhenya never finds him? What if Zhenya gets hurt? What if—_

Ovechkin suddenly stops, pulling Sid abruptly from his thoughts as he comes to a jerking halt. For a split second he wonders why they’ve stopped but the question leaves him immediately when Ovechkin yanks his head back by the hair, pressing the gun to his temple. 

“Do you think I won’t do it?” Ovechkin laughs.

 

It’s then that Flower quietly steps out of the shadows several feet in front of them, eyes cold and unwavering as he lifts his arm to aim at Ovechkin. 

Sid can feel Ovechkin tense up behind him, fingers tightening impossibly in his hair. He yanks hard and Sid can’t stop the cry of pain as he’s forced up onto his tiptoes.

Ovechkin laughs again. “No, I think _you_ won’t do it,” he says to Flower. “You won’t risk hurting Zhenya’s favorite toy. He is the reason you’re here, after all.” 

Flower doesn’t move, barely blinks; Ovechkin goes on. “I’ll never understand your loyalty to him. He values the life of his whore more than that of his men. You know coming here for him is a suicide mission yet here you are.”

That’s when Ovechkin pulls the gun from Sid’s temple and points it squarely at Flower. “Are you ready to die for him?” 

Still, Flower says nothing, doesn’t move, barely even blinks. Sid has never been more terrified in his life. 

For a split second everything is silent, no one moves. And then Sid feels Ovechkin tensing behind him and squeezes his eyes shut in terror. Almost immediately Ovechkin lets Sid’s hair go and he he pitches forward, collapsing on the cold cement. 

A gunshot rings out and then he can’t hear anything; he opens his eyes in time to see Flower collapsing, blood seeping through his clothes. Sid’s screams are cut off by muffled yelling and hands are on him, dragging him painfully to his knees by his still-bound arms. 

And then everything stops.

The fingers on his arm briefly tighten before going slack and Sid slips from his grip again, hunching over onto the floor with a yelp. 

 

“ _You fucked up, Sasha._ ” 

Sid struggles to turn his head, eyes going wide at the sight of Zhenya backing Ovechkin against a wall, hand against his throat and gun to his temple. 

Then there are hands on him again, much more carefully hoisting him to a sitting position. There’s blood covering Flower’s left side but he’s barely flinching as he drags Sid backward several feet. 

Ovechkin tries to gasp for air and Zhenya lets go. “On your knees,” he says with terrifying calmness, pulling the gun from Ovechkin’s temple. Ovechkin is still gasping for breath as he sinks down, looking scared for the first time. 

Zhenya’s face is emotionless as he raises his gun again, this time resting the barrel against Ovechkin’s forehead. 

“ _There was a reason they chose me over you_ ,” he says before switching to English. "Eyes closed, baby," he says gently and Sidney squeezes them shut. A moment later Zhenya pulls the trigger. 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please heed the warnings.

Sid’s ears are ringing, eyes squeezed tightly shut until he hears Zhenya’s voice through the din. He blinks them open to see Zhenya speaking hurried Russian into his phone. Sid is too fuzzy to understand any of the words but there’s no mistaking the urgency. 

Zhenya drops to his knees saying to Sid, “Going to be okay baby,” even as he’s turning his attention to Flower. That’s when Sid realizes Flower’s hands aren’t on him anymore. 

He twists to look at them, eyes widening in horror at the sheer amount of blood. Zhenya is quickly shedding his own jacket, holster then shirt, ripping it hastily. He’s moving fast, using the strips as a makeshift tourniquet; the color is draining from Flower’s face. “Hang on,” he says. “Help is on the way.”

Sid wants to cry but he tries to stay silent, watching in horrified agony as Flower starts to shake. 

There’s so much blood. 

A sob rips its way out of his sore throat just as someone else appears, rushing down the corridor. It’s Letang, cursing at the sight of Flower. 

Zhenya and Letang exchange a few words and then suddenly Zhenya’s hand is on Sid’s chin, pulling his head around so that he can no longer see Flower. 

“Look at me,” he says and it’s not a request.

Zhenya makes quick work of the ropes binding Sid and finally, _finally_ he’s free, wincing at the pain in his shoulders and wrists. Zhenya wraps his jacket around Sid and then, without warning, hoists him up into his arms.

\--

Time ceases to exist and awareness is fleeting. 

Sid thinks they’re in a car, Zhenya’s arms around him. They’re going fast—his head rolling around as they take the sharp turns faster than seems possible. He wants to ask where they’re going, ask where Flower is and if he’s okay but his tongue feels like cotton and all he can do is groan softly. Everything hurts and he lets Zhenya gather him closer. 

\--

Sid opens his eyes; the lights are too bright and he winces, crying out at the sharp pain in his head. There are people around him; a doctor maybe. He looks familiar but Sid can’t place him. And Zhenya is there, speaking rapidly in hushed tones to the man before answering his phone. 

The man smiles. “Sidney?”

At the sound of his name, Zhenya is instantly by his side again, taking his hand gently. “You waking up?”

Sid tries to nod and winces at the movement, letting his eyes fall closed again. A moment later he feels a soft kiss on his forehead and the comfort of Zhenya’s voice wrapping him in warmth. “Just sleep, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” 

\--

Sid looks blearily around the dark room, confused. He’s in his room, their room, at home but there’s medical equipment beeping at his bedside. The door is open a sliver, letting in a sharp slice of light. There are voices, at least one of them a woman.

“Marc était supposé être en sécurité!” She wails, sounding frantic. 

“Il connaissait les risques Vero. Tu les connais,” comes Zhenya’s reply, calm and serious. 

“Ce n'est pas assez bon!” Her voice breaks as she starts to cry. 

And then their voices start to fade as they move down the hall, out of Sid’s earshot. Within moments his eyes fall closed again. 

\--

Zhenya’s next to him in the bed, spooned around him from behind. Sid’s not sure if he’s sleeping but he squeezes gently as soon as Sid stirs before helping him roll carefully to his back. 

Sid peers up at Zhenya with heavy eyes. He suspects they’ve been keeping him on strong pain medication. He’s grateful but there’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to know. He tries and can’t seem to make his mouth say the words. 

Zhenya gently soothes Sid’s hair back. “Shh, baby. Don’t worry right now.” He leans over, gently kissing Sid’s forehead. “Just rest.” 

Sid’s eyes sting with the hot prick of tears even as they flutter shut. 

\--

He spends the better part of two days in bed. 

Zhenya wakes him periodically to eat, drink and be helped to the bathroom. Twice he sits slumped in the dim light of the bathroom while Zhenya gently wipes him down with a warm washcloth.

On the third day he’s still foggy but well enough that the doctor—Dr. Cullen, he remembers now—wants to remove his IV. Zhenya looks anything but relieved, though, frowning deeply from the moment Cully broaches the subject. 

“You sure?” He asks, looking skeptical. 

“He’s eating and drinking plenty and is fine to take meds orally. He’s ready.” 

Zhenya grumbles quietly in response but doesn’t argue. 

When the IV is gone, Sid stretches a bit and flexes his hand. He still hurts all over, still can’t handle a lot of light or loud noise but at least now he’s a little more mobile. He wonders if he can take a shower. He doesn’t think Zhenya will be thrilled about it but he feels filthy, doesn’t want to get back into bed like this. 

Zhenya, ever perceptive, asks softly, “What you need, sweetheart?” 

Sid answers tentatively. “Shower?” 

Zhenya studies his face for a moment before he’s apparently satisfied with what he sees before nodding. “Okay.”

Zhenya helps him to a chair in the shower and, in the soft glow of lit candles, showers them both, taking extra care as he scrubs gently at Sid’s curls and washes away the grime of the last few days. 

Afterward Sid sits in the fluffy armchair, watching through half-opened eyes as Zhenya puts fresh linens on the bed. He’s not thirsty but Zhenya makes him drink half a bottle of water before he finally settles back into bed. 

“Lay with me?” Sid asks, eyelids already falling shut. 

Zhenya doesn’t hesitate, climbing in and wrapping tight around him. 

\--

Zhenya barely leaves his side the next few days. He takes care of Sid—makes sure he eats and drinks enough, helps him shower and walks around the dim apartment with him when he wants to move around more. 

When Sid starts sleeping a little less, Zhenya fills the time reading to him by the dimmest light possible to help stave off boredom. At night, Sid looks out over the Pittsburgh skyline while Zhenya plans with Sergei and the other men who will be staying behind to manage business in the city. 

By the time Cully releases Sid to fly, the bruises on his face have faded from nasty purple to green and yellow hues. He still hates looking at them but he doesn’t hurt nearly as much anymore. His lip is healed and he can handle regular daylight, watching tv and even playing games on his phone most of the time. He still gets headaches and has occasional light sensitivity but Cully says it’s normal and that he’s safe to go. 

And he is so ready to go. 

It’s not that he’s afraid to be in Pittsburgh. He knows Ovechkin is gone—his entire operation is gone—knows firsthand the lengths Zhenya will go to to keep him safe. But he’s so tired of the knot of tension in his stomach every time his eyes sweep the skyline and spot the building he was taken from that night, the sick clench of guilt knowing two of Zhenya’s men lost their lives when they came for Sid that night. 

Maybe leaving Pittsburgh won’t change anything that happened but Sid is desperate to get away from the constant reminders the city throws at him. To leave behind the bleak, persistent grayness of winter that’s wearing him down in a way it never has before. And, more than anything, he doesn’t want to be separated from Zhenya. He knows it will eventually have to happen but Zhenya assured him that won’t be for a long, long time. For now, where Zhenya goes, Sid goes and that’s all he wants. 

\--

“Ready baby?” 

Zhenya holds his hand out, smiling and Sid nods as he takes it, letting Zhenya help him up. Sometimes he still gets a little dizzy when he stands up too fast but he’s careful this time and feels fine. Zhenya looks closely at him anyhow. 

“You feel okay? Sure you up to this?” 

“Cully cleared me to fly,” Sid says tiredly. “I’m ready to go.” 

“Okay but you say if you start to feel bad.” 

Sid nods his agreement, “I promise,” and picks up his carry-on but Zhenya immediately plucks it out of his hands. 

“Zhenya…” 

“No argue.” 

“I have a concussion, not broken hands.” 

“Don’t care,” is Zhenya’s stubborn reply and Sid knows he won’t win this one.

He lets Zhenya slip an arm around his waist, Sid’s bag slung over his shoulder as he guides them toward the door.

Gudbranson, Letang and Guentzel are there waiting for them, Gudbranson falling into step to Sid’s left and back a couple of paces. 

In the car he rests his head on Zhenya’s shoulder, closing his eyes for the trip to the airport. 

“Still okay?” Zhenya asks, brushing his lips gently onto Sid’s curls. 

“Yeah.” 

“Good. Can’t wait to show you Miami.” 

\--

Sid’s never flown with Zhenya or on a private jet and he goes a little wide-eyed when they board the plane. Everything is spotless, spacious and lavish—and he shouldn’t be surprised. Zhenya just smiles softly, ducking down to murmur, “Only best for my Sid,” before guiding them to their seats. 

The cabin is cool and dim, most likely in deference to his concussion and he leans into Zhenya gratefully. He lets his eyes close again as they wait and keeps them closed until a familiar voice rings out and they fly open. 

And then he sees Flower, arm in a sling, limping pitifully down the aisle and Sid doesn’t stop to think, just jumps up to hug him carefully. This is the moment he’s been looking forward to since his second night home, when Zhenya told him Flower had come through his surgery, was going to be okay.

“Yeah, yeah,” Flower says with a grin as they pull apart. “I missed you too. Sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” He nods towards his arm, held tightly to his body with a sling. 

Sid wipes at his red eyes with a smile. “It’s okay. Sorry I couldn’t visit you in the hospital.” 

Flower shrugs and winces at the movement. “Heard you have a pretty wicked concussion. Better to recover first.” 

Flower makes a show of limping and panting the last few steps to his seat, laboriously lowering himself dramatically into the seat across from Sid’s with a groan. 

“You shot in _arm_ ,” Zhenya says with a huff, to Sid’s amusement. “Legs fine.” 

“I know but the pain is so bad, it radiates down into my legs.” Flower winces melodramatically as he says it and Sid can’t help the snort of laughter that bubbles out of him as he settles into his seat.

Zhenya sighs and picks up his phone, stopping only to glare briefly at Flower before looking down at it. 

Flower beams over at Sid. “How you feeling?” 

“Better every day,” Sid says, tipping his chin up. “You?” He asks, biting his lip as he glances at Flower’s arm. 

Flower winks at him before answering. “It’s touch and go, you know? The doctors say I may never jerk off again,” he says with a grin that sets Sid off into soft giggles. Zhenya glares heavily at Flower until Sid tucks his head against Zhenya’s shoulder, distracting him. 

\--

Later, when they’re in the air and Zhenya is sufficiently distracted talking to Letang, Sid nudges Flower’s foot gently. “Seriously,” he says quietly, brows furrowed. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Sid. Promise,” he replies with a reassuring smile. “Sling is just precautionary at this point. Surgery went great, everything feels good you know? Another week or so I’ll be good as new.” 

“Flower I just… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” He says quietly, voice starting to break.

“No.” Flower snaps, cutting him off with a sharp frown. “Don’t you dare. It’s my fault he got to you. I’m so sorry, Sid.” 

Sid feels his eyes sting as they well with tears. “It’s not—” 

Zhenya picks up his hand and squeezes gently, effectively cutting them both off. “If is anyone fault, is mine for not finding leak sooner.”

Sid is surprised when Flower looks away hastily, swallowing thickly before mumbling, “I accept cash and checks.” As diversions go, it works because Zhenya groans exasperatedly and Flower smiles again. 


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG thanks to Alia, Senia, ljummen, Cosie and the GC.

Sidney wakes up alone and he’s not happy about it. Today of all days, he wants to wake up in Zhenya’s arms, had plans for how it might play out and none of those plans involved waking up alone. He pulls on a soft pair of shorts and goes looking for him. 

It doesn’t take long to track him down to the home gym. For a moment Sid just watches him, taking in the broad expanse of his back, muscles shifting with every movement. 

“Going to stare all day?” 

Sid glares at the back of his head. “Just trying to figure out why you’re here instead of in bed.” 

Zhenya glaces over his shoulder, passes his heavy-lidded gaze up and down Sid’s body before turning his back again. “Busy man, Sid. Have things to do, can’t wait all day while you lounge in bed.” 

Sid’s mouth drops open in shock until Zhenya glances back again with a cocky half-smile and that’s when he understands: Zhenya is teasing him. 

Well. Two can play that game. 

Sid shrugs and saunters off, calling over his shoulder. “Have a nice workout.” 

Minutes later he’s situating himself on a yoga mat poolside—directly in front of the wall of windows that line Zhenya’s home gym. He doesn’t dare glance back, just starts his stretching routine taking great care to slow down and really accentuate every movement. 

It takes all of ten minutes before a long shadow casts over him from behind and Sid smiles to himself before sinking low and slow into a full split. It’s not part of his normal routine but then again, he’s not trying to accomplish the same things he normally does. He hears Zhenya’s soft growl just as he settles into the position and begins to stretch his arms forward. 

He doesn’t acknowledge Zhenya, taking his time as he carefully works through more movements until he’s finally standing again. That’s when Zhenya pounces, wrapping an arm tight around his waist from behind, pulling him close. “Go to shower.” 

“But—”

Zhenya cuts him off with another growl. “ _Now_ ,” he demands, accentuating the word with a light slap on Sid’s ass. 

Sid has smug smile on his face as he heads inside without looking back. 

In the shower he’s slow and thorough—so thorough— waiting but Zhenya never shows up, much to Sid’s displeasure. He finally gives up. 

He’s still naked when he steps into their bedroom, grumpily running the towel over his hair when his eyes land on Zhenya standing by the bedside still wearing his workout clothes. Sid quickly averts his eyes as he discards the towel and heads for the closet. He’s barely taken five steps when he feels Zhenya’s arm slide around his waist, pulling him close again. 

Zhenya’s lips are at his ear. “Your mouth so fucking hot when you pout.” 

“I’m not…” Sid trails off, words dying in this throat as Zhenya grips his hip, pulling Sid’s ass flush against him. 

“Lay down. On front,” comes the low growl in his ear. 

Sid does as he’s told.

He can feel Zhenya climbing on the bed behind him and he’s expecting the strong grip of Zhenya’s palms on his ass cheeks, the graze of nimble fingers against his hole. Even the gentle bite at the spot just below his left ass cheek doesn’t surprise him. 

But the hot, wet drag of Zhenya’s tongue does. 

Sid gasps, hips bucking at the sensation and Zhenya’s hand comes down in a light slap on his ass. “Be still,” is all Zhenya says and Sid wants to do exactly what he’s told but…

It’s impossible; he can’t even begin to keep his hips still as Zhenya’s tongue starts to work him over. Zhenya doesn’t seem to mind, even sounds pleased as he hums in response to Sid’s moans. 

He takes his time, drawing out the slow, delicious torture until he finally pauses long enough to bring his fingers to Sid’s lips. “Get them wet,” he rasps so Sid does and then Zhenya’s using his fingers alongside his tongue and Sid thinks he might _die_. 

It’s too much and not enough and he lets out a soft groan of relief when he hears the click of the lube cap. He whines when Zhenya’s fingers and tongue are both gone briefly and is rewarded with another soft bite, this one on the swell of his ass cheek. “Be patient,” Zhenya rumbles at him before pressing a long finger slowly back in. 

He works Sid with his fingers until Sid thinks he can’t wait another second. “Zhenya...Zhenya _please_ ,” he pleads. “Fuck me.” 

And Zhenya does move, covers Sid’s body with his own again but he’s reaching for the drawer by their bed and Sid has no idea why. “Zhenya, come on.” 

Zhenya ignores him, trailing kisses down Sid’s back until _finally_ Sid feels a blunt pressure against his hole. But it feels different and he realizes all at once that it’s not Zhenya’s dick. He glances over his shoulder to find Zhenya staring at him as though he was waiting. “You wear plug for me today?” He asks, pupils blown wide. 

“I…” Sid trails off, completely overwhelmed and then Zhenya is leaning over him again, kissing softly at his cheek and jaw. 

“Promise I make worth it for you,” he says, voice low. 

And, well, Sid can’t deny him anything. “Okay,” he breathes, arching his back a little. “Okay.” 

They’ve done this before—not often but he knows Zhenya gets a thrill out of knowing Sid’s using it and Sid, well. Zhenya doesn’t lie to him, certainly not about this. It’s _always_ worth it in the end. 

Zhenya is careful—so careful; he always is with Sid—planting soft kisses, whispering soft Russian into his ear as he works the plug in. Sid rolls to his side with a happy sigh when it’s in, pulling Zhenya close. 

Zhenya kisses him, slow and dirty, fingers sliding through Sid’s hair as he tips him all the way back. Sid reaches for him as Zhenya settles on top, lowering for another kiss before he starts trailing wet kisses down Sid’s body. Sid lets his head fall back, eyes closed, ready for anything. 

Then Zhenya’s weight disappears. 

Sid cracks his eyes open to see Zhenya striding towards the door. “Zhenya?” 

“Hmm?” He pulls the door open. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Have work to do. Have good day, baby.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving Sid staring after him in disbelief. “You have _got_ to be kidding me—Zhenya!” Dashing to the door he calls out into the empty hall again. “ _Zhenya_!”

So Zhenya wants to play. Sid knows exactly what to do. 

Minutes later he’s in the pool, still naked and now wet from a quick lap. Ignoring the window he knows belongs to Zhenya’s office, he makes a show of hoisting himself onto the ledge before sauntering to a lounger in the sun. He sprawls on the spacious chair, legs spread and one knee bent, letting his head fall back with a smile on his face. Now all he has to do is wait. 

Moments later there’s a loud curse and a voice yelling, “Oh come _on_!” 

Sid lifts his sunglasses, spots Flower glaring at him. “Et tu, Sid?” 

Sid feels his cheeks flushing hotter but he just shrugs. Sliding his sunglasses back in place, he grins as Flower stomps off, towel in hand, grumbling fiercely about all the dicks he’s sick of seeing. Sid settles in again. 

It shouldn’t be long now. 

Sure enough, barely five minutes have passed when a shadow looms over him. Sid cracks an eye to see Zhenya smirking down at him. 

This time he’s not wearing anything and Sid knows he won. 

“You put on big show out here.” 

Sid shrugs, stretching his arms above his head. Zhenya takes the opportunity, swooping down to pin Sid’s wrists to the lounger and straddle him. 

“You not behave today,” Zhenya says, voice a low rumble.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“No?” Zhenya asks, sliding his free hand under Sid’s bent knee, easing it up. “Then what you want?” 

It’s a struggle to answer. Zhenya is hard and hiking Sid’s leg up, settling between his legs and there’s just _so much_ Sid wants. 

“Fuck me,” he finally breathes out and Zhenya’s answering smile is slow and dirty. 

"All you have to do is ask," he says with a slow grind of his hips. “Is your birthday after all.” Sid really hopes Flower doesn't come back anytime soon. 

\--

Sid inspects the purple spot on his clavicle smiling as he remembers Zhenya putting it there just a few hours earlier. It’s not the only one but the others are covered by his pants. With a soft grin he finishes buttoning his shirt and grabs his tie.

It’s gorgeous—smooth, silky dark purple that probably cost more than all of his old clothes combined. A gift from Zhenya today—one of many that he produced as the day wore on. He wonders when he got used to this. 

Before he can think about it too much Zhenya pops up behind him wearing a soft smile. He holds Sid’s gaze in the mirror for a moment before stepping in front of him and starting to work the tie himself. 

“Will you finally tell me now?” 

Zhenya grins a little wider. “What kind of surprise it be if I tell you?” 

“We’re going in like ten minutes,” Sid protests with a whine. “Why not just tell me?” 

Zhenya laughs before cupping Sid’s face. He drops a slow, sultry kiss on Sid’s tender lips before he answers. “So impatient. Have to wait. You find out soon enough.” 

Sid sighs but he stops arguing. It’s been a _very_ good day—the best birthday he’s had in years. If Zhenya wants to surprise him, well. Sid won’t complain.

Zhenya makes short work of the tie before kissing Sid one more time. He takes Sid’s hand and squeezes, pulling him close. “Look so good,” He says, voice low and liquid. “We go now, before I take clothes off again.” 

Once downstairs Sid expects to head to the garage but Zhenya takes his hand and leads him in across the first floor instead. “Close eyes,” he says, and raises an eyebrow when Sid balks. “So bad. You close eyes for me, baby.” 

Sid does and lets Zhenya lead him. There’s a brief pause when they reach what Sid thinks is the doors leading to the garden before Zhenya guides him through them and down the stone steps. At the bottom, Zhenya slips his arms around Sid’s waist from behind and pulls him back until he’s flush with Zhenya’s body. “Now look,” Zhenya says, voice almost a whisper at Sid’s ear. 

Sid flutters his eyes open to find the garden courtyard lit up with thousands of twinkling white lights. A small group of people are gathered in the center, grinning at Sid as they call out a chorus of “surprise!”

Sid laughs, casting his eyes around and sees Flower and Vero, Tanger, Jake, Guddy—Zhenya’s entire inner circle, really. There’s Andy—Sid’s self defense coach and Patric, his firearms instructor. Carl, Sid’s private yoga instructor and even Cath who does accounting for Zhenya is there, standing close to Tanger.

Sid smiles ear to ear, he can’t help it. Twisting a little, he looks up at Zhenya with raised eyebrows. “You threw me a surprise party?” 

Zhenya grins, kisses him slow and sweet before answering. “You say you not have birthday party for long, long time. I think, I’m have to fix. Give you _best_ birthday party.” 

Sid opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Flower approaching with what looks like—

“You gotta wear your party hat!” He exclaims, handing flimsy, pointy little hats to Sid and Zhenya. 

Zhenya scowls but Sid starts to giggle as he slips the elastic under his chin. Flower slips his hat on and they both turn to look expectantly at Zhenya. 

“I tell you this not that kind of party,” Zhenya grumbles. 

“And I told you I don’t give a shit.” He looks at Sid before continuing. “Do you want the hats, Sid?” 

Sid grins over at Zhenya. “You know, I kind of do.” 

“You heard the birthday boy, Zhenya. Hats on.” 

“Fine,” Zhenya grumbles. “But no hats at wedding next month.” 

“I make no promises,” Flower calls over his shoulder as he sets off to hand out the ridiculous hats to everyone else.

Zhenya stares after him for a moment before setting his jaw. With a narrow-eyed look at Sid he takes a deep breath and puts the hat on his head, pulling the elastic down securely under his chin. He straightens his tie, squares his shoulders and reaches a hand out to Sid. “Let’s have party.” 

Two hours later the hats have been discarded. Sid is pleasantly full from the hors d'oeuvres that have been circulating and slightly tipsy from all the champagne. He’s danced with Zhenya, blown candles out on a cake and even opened a few presents. Now he’s laughing softly as he leads Zhenya away from the party, pulling him down for a deep kiss once they’re out of sight of the others. They can still hear the music, the laughing and talking but here it’s softer, a quiet background murmur. 

Zhenya guides him into a light sway, not really dancing but close enough. Sid sighs happily and leans into it. 

“Good birthday?” 

Sid grins wider. “The _best_. That’s why I brought you out here. I wanted to thank you.” 

Zhenya cocks his head to the side. “You not have to thank, Sid. You deserve this. Deserve whole world.” 

Sid smiles again, surging to his tiptoes to kiss Zhenya deeply. “You’re so good to me Zhenya. Just let me thank you.” 

“You already—” 

Sid cuts him off with another kiss. “Shut up,” he says, holding Zhenya’s gaze as he slowly sinks to his knees. “And let me thank you.” 

Zhenya is speechless for a moment before finally blurting out, “ _Fuck,_ ” as Sid works his pants open. Zhenya stands frozen for a moment until Sid looks up at him again, eyes bright and happy. “You so bad,” he whispers. 

“Only for you,” Sid whispers back before wrapping his lips around Zhenya’s cock. 

Zhenya relaxes the wall behind him, sliding fingers into Sid’s hair with a groan. “Yes,” he replies back in a low growl. “Only for me.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be remiss if I didn't thank everyone for all the comments. Your feedback motivates me more than you'll know! 
> 
> Come see me on Tumblr!


End file.
